Destiny: Fireteam Spirit
by Fallen Paragon
Summary: The story of Destiny is a story of Legends. Some are born. Some are made. However, for Legends to exist, there must be those who have failed. For Perseus to conquer the Gorgon known as Medusa, many poor souls had to die in order for him to become a legend. Fireteam Spirit are no exception. So, is it their fate to become the legends or mere stepping stones for the future?
1. Chapter I: Scars of the psyche

Disclaimer: I do not own is franchise, I only own the characters and story.

A quick shout out to the author Killiani for using these characters in his story, so thank you. Anyway, this is my first posted story and I would prefer if you don't flame me for any mistakes. Constructive criticisms are fine but please no insults as there is no need. If you have read Killiani's story then you have a small idea of what these guys are like but this stories delves into them a bit more and their normal lives.

So, let's get started…

Chapter I: Scars of the psyche…

"This time we can go wherever we want!" The Ghost shrieked with joy as she circled the area around her owner, the panels that shaped her body inclined upwards as a sign of excitement.

Ever since she and her Guardian had assisted in the death of the Hive Abomination known as Phogoth, this particular Ghost has been rather optimistic as of late and not her usual reluctant and sarcastic self. She had been so eager as of late and her Guardian owner was finding it rather intriguing, especially since he was so accustomed to the more cynical attitude.

The Warlock following the Ghost glared at the scenery around him, taking in the barren and dark atmosphere of the Moon and its new inhabitants. In his travels, the Warlock had decided that this place—the Hive's new home—was the worst place in the entire galaxy as it housed some of the most despicable and defiled creatures to walk Gods great creations. He sighed as he caught glimpse of a Fallen Vandal to fight off a Hive Thrall, almost feeling sorry for the xeno. Almost being the operative word.

Shortly after he was revived as a Guardian, he had already started to gain an open respect for the xeno known as the Fallen; he found them fairly intriguing, in the very least. Whenever he was able he would avoid killing them and simply pass them by but if any so much as raised a rail rifle in his direction he would raise his infamous pistol—The Chance—and blast their armoured cranium into smithereens.

He shook his head as he reloaded his infamous weapon, his eyes following his Ghost closely. "Yes, we can go wherever we choose," he began as he started to walk up the slightly inclined hill, his black and pink companion following closely to examine the terrain. "But our mission will continue to remain the same." He hated the sound of his own voice sometimes. His voice was always so clean and educated but carried a constant tone of foreboding, not to forget grief. "We are known as Fireteam Spirit for a reason…"

Cyrus and his trusted colleagues had been famous for finding missing or dead Ghosts in the past, seemingly naturals at spotting the little lights. After their first team up against the hordes of Hive on earth as they reactivated the means to intergalactic travel, they had been chosen by the Speaker to find the missing lights lost in the clutches of the darkness of Earth and any other Moon or world in their path. They had made it their own personal endeavour to hunt down any missing light lost in the darkness' clutches, hoping to light their way through the evil.

'One candle at a time…' He thought to himself.

The Ghost's plates declined into what seemed to be a simulated form of a dreary gaze, sighing at her partner's usually gloomy outlook on life. "You certainly know how to give a girl a good time, you know that?" She remarked sarcastically as her body shook from side to side as to represent her sigh and disappointment. "Why can't you just find some girl to cheer you up and keep you company?"

The human gave out a very distinctive sigh, aiming his weapons barrel over his raised arm. "Don't start that again, Sera." He shook his armoured head and fired a single round into the unwitting Hive Thrall before he could finish the Vandal, his exo-skeletal remains littering the ground them. "As much as you insist, you should have already processed that I am not going to find a female companion."

Within the community of the Guardians, Cyrus has never really been known as the most sociable individual as e has been known to simply avoid conversation entirely and only reply in simplest of gestures for communication. Avoiding conversations, interaction or even the simplest pieces of attention was—as Red-16 called it—his own special skill; to a degree, the annoying Exo was correct However, when it came down to the most basic conversation Cyrus has been known to indulge himself in the company of very few others but mainly his Ghost, Sera.

The Fallen Vandal's eyes wandered towards the sound of the gunshot originated, his four eyes locking on to the solitary Guardian. His instinct instructed him to act and fire his weapon but seemed to instead tilt his head and lower his weapon, as if he was curious. Now a Fallen's instinct was usually quite sharp and usually automatic but this pause seemed odd, as any Fallen would know that a simple pause could end up taking you to an early grave. Instead of firing, the Fallen simply carried on with his patrol, ignoring the Guardian from then on. The small Ghost at the Warlocks side raised her plates at the behaviour of the Vandal, a small pink flash indicating her surprise.

"I… Did you just…" She stuttered in disbelief. "Did you just save the life of a Fallen and he didn't try to kill us?"

Her Guardian ghosted a slight smile as he holstered his Hand Cannon to his side and extract his LDR 5001 Sniper Rifle from its back placement, scouting out the nearby area with extreme prejudice. "Believe it, Sera." He remarked. "That just happened..."

The Warlock started to pace across the barren lands of the moon, avoiding any confrontation with any enemies as to continue with his bounty and get off this God-forsaken rock. The mission that Lakshmi-2 had given him seemed easy enough since he was so used to fighting the mighty hordes of the horrifying Hive, not that he was proud of it.

The mission was to go further down into the depths of Crota's Temple and eliminate the Hive knight said to possess a blade of Crota's will, all the while making sure to destroy the weapon itself. Now, this may have seemed to be a menial task for the Guardian but he took it upon himself to complete this as he saw it as a personal favour and vendetta for the poor soul known as Eris Morn, a once proud Guardian who lost everything to that so called God.

The Warlock never really had a sympathetic side for anyone but he did feel guilty for not being able to help the tainted Guardian, for not being able to defeat that bastard of a Hive himself but even he knew his limits. He knew he had responsibilities to the Future War Cult, the Speaker, and his Fireteam and dying would only lead to a massive void in those different communities. However, that did not mean he could sit by and leave Eris' mission to be forgotten in the rifts of time.

Recently, however, his connections to the Cult were unsettling as he started to become distant from them in these past few months. There was no doubt in his mind that he still supported their beliefs but he had been feeling like his distance from them was starting to change him as he has begun a recline back into his anti-social behaviour, making slightly more hostile to people he did not know or trust. It has been a while since he last wore his FWC uniform as he has recently taken up his own Predawne uniform to fight the Hive.

As he reached the large door leading to the Hive temple, the Guardian aimed is LDR and was prepared to fire at any oncoming attackers; he had to dispatch them quickly as he knew that a horde of Hive was the last thing anyone wanted. A single Hive Thrall was dangerous by itself as its claws could easily tear through Guardians armour if left unchecked. However, they are easily able to be dispatched by a single Hand Cannon shell but a horde of Thrall could dispatch you in seconds. Although the Warlocks mind was entirely focused on the possibility on the many other threats the Hive pose, Cyrus was always worried about the Thrall as he found them the most terrifying; though he would never so much as admit this, he was terrified of those abominations more than any Knight or Witch.

 _ **Knights**_ are predictable as they always follow a certain pattern of attack, either charging head on at you with a tainted weapon or simply absorbing most of your firepower in their impenetrable shields. Either that or they hide behind their own brethren and fire bombardments of artillery your way, which certainly made head on attacks more difficult.

 _ **Ogres**_ are simple minded brutes that charge straight into the fight, launching barrages of psychic energy from their malformed cranium and cutting down all in their path. Though dangerous at range, the Ogres real strength lies in its incredible physical stature and power. The method to dispatch one is simple: Aim for the head and hope to God you have ammunition…

 _ **Acolytes**_ are very easily removed from the equation of battle but can be very irritating if left to their own devices, allowing them to suppress you with a barrage of firepower. Though strong in numbers, the Acolyte is probably one of the less significant parts in the Hives arsenals.

 _ **Witches &Wizards**_ are not only irritating but they are powerful and annoyingly resilient, being able to absorb most of the damage taken into their own blasted shield. Solar damage was the only thing that could damage their defences and even that struggled slightly. They had the tendency to be fairly difficult in battle as they would float from side to side of the room and then pummel you with a ridiculous amount of artillery. However, once their shield was destroyed they are basically useless against most kind of weapons as their own armour and flesh is fragile compared to any kind of bullet.

Although these others were more powerful and more deadly, the Guardian still feared the Thrall. Their scream was the voice of the damned, echoing in his ears like a cacophony of death and terror. Their thin and limber body's defied logic as they looked starved and the smell they produced — even in death — was repulsive to the senses. Their torso is similar to that of a frail skeleton, the colours of its armoured shell a repulsive tinge of green with a moulding brown along its decaying flesh. He would be sure to kill every single one he found as mercy was not worthy of such despicable creatures.

As he treaded down the stone staircase, he was sure to keep his footsteps light and soft as he did not want to be detected by the enemy just yet. He watched the open room carefully and listened for any visible or resounding indications that there could be a trap in store for him or that there are patrolling Hive with an itchy trigger finger, the latter being more of a hope than a concern.

He held out his hand and glanced at the small light that appeared, her solitary eye wandering about the room and simulating anxiousness. "Why can't we ever visit anywhere, you know, nice?" She asked as she watched a distant shadow dart across the walls.

Ignoring the question and removing his Hand Cannon from its holster as he glanced at her, being sure to simultaneously watch his surroundings. "How close is it?" He asked as he followed a very distinctive Acolytes shadow, his trigger finger itching to exterminate the monstrosities.

His Ghosts singular eye locked on the corridor before them, her light igniting only a few meters in front of her and her companion. Her angular shell gave the slightest of simulated shivers as she heard the abysmal orchestra of screams coming from the darkness below, the roars of Ogres and Knights alike rang in the ears of Cyrus. At that moment he decided that his earlier thoughts were wrong. This place was not just some defiled land of God's creation but it was something much worse. This was not some tainted world with a corruption that had a hope of being cleansed; the Moon was a living Hell to its very core.

"I can sense their presence a few meters below us…" She whispered, glancing at the bond on her Guardians arm ignite in an emerald green flame and watched as the fires roared with an unholy presence but still illuminated a part of the corridor. She was tempted to make a comment on her opinion of the dark bond he wore when he faced the Hive but she held it back, now was not the time. Cyrus gritted his teeth as he saw a silhouette.

Cyrus gave a visible flinch as he heard a nearby scream coming from a lurking Thrall, his body tensing as random voices started to enter his ears and his hand came to clutch his armoured head.

' _Paris seems like a good place to start our search, right Cyrus?'_

His Ghost nudged him slightly, trying to get her Guardians attention and also attempting to figure out why he has gone into a self-induced trance. "Cyrus?" She asked as she hovered in front of his helmet, her panels declining slightly. "What's wrong?"

Ignoring her concerns he began to jog through the descending tunnels, watching each unprotected entrance with diligence. "Look, about what I was saying earlier," Sera began as she spoke through his armour and tried to change the conversation, the Warlock listening intently but not halting his progress. "I still think finding a girl could really help you and your social activities or interaction." Cyrus rolled his eyes her statement, starting to lose interest in her. "You know, maybe some human girl or a beautiful Awoken woman." Cyrus blushed slightly at the thought of one Awoken woman in particular. "As I know how much you love Awoken girls."

"You… But I… She doesn't…" He tumbled over his words as he tried to subdue his blush. "Just tell me where the objective is…"

He stopped as his Ghost appeared in front of him, watching her make a sound to indicate silence. "They are right beside us, in the left archway!" She whispered as Cyrus reloaded The Chance and aimed around the corner, a single Knight could be seen worshipping a small green void that seemed to morph and mutate above it.

' _I can feel a disturbance in the lights balance here, something is coming…'_

Cyrus flinched once more, the memories of his horrifying past flooding his mind but he knew there was there was only one way to block out the voices of the damned. He knew that the screams of battle and the sounds of death would soothe his ears from their tainted words of betrayal and hatred.

Stepping from cover, Cyrus fired his Hand Cannon into the back of its head, making the monster leap from his position, drawing his dreaded blade from its holding and lunge towards the human with an ear-splitting roar. As the Knight swiftly approached, Cyrus unloaded every bit of ammunition he could into the creature but found his attempts to not be enough to down the wretched beast.

Just as the creature was going to slice him with its unholy sword, the Warlock vanished in the blink of an eye. The creature's eyes wandered the room, not able to find the intruder to this most unholy dwelling and roared in a fit of rage. However, its roar was silenced as it heard a single bone snap under the footstep of another presence and it turned abruptly as to find the intruder.

As the monster turned, its eyes were covered by the fabric of an armoured glove and it could feel its armoured cranium being ripped to shreds by the power flooding from the glove. The Warlock roared as he pushed all his void energy into the monsters cranium and completely eradicated it from the head down; it's only remains being the armoured shell of its helmet upon the ground. His flinching suddenly became a violent twitch, almost a muscle spasm.

' _Is the coast clear? I don't want to fight anymore…'_

The Warlock took a few deep breaths after that manoeuvre, feeling that the use of void energy must have drained him of some of his strength. "Well, I guess that's it." His Ghost sighed as she rematerialized beside him, scanning the remains for transfer to the ship. "I will inform both Eris and Lakshmi-2 that we have-"

' _We are not alone anymore…'_

"Wait," Cyrus interrupted abruptly as he started to hear an odd whirring coming from the where Knight had been praying, the voids morphing form changing rapidly. "the Void!" He exclaimed as he backed away from it, watching the small phenomenon grow larger and start to expand vastly.

"It's a God-damned portal!"

-Scene Change-

"Hey, little sis!" The ever joyous beige Exo exclaimed with glee as he patted his friend on the shoulder and gave his ever famous Exo smirk. The Awoken Guardian he greeted sighed as she placed her fusion rifle onto the table before her and looked at the Exo drearily, her previous meetings and conversations with the witty Exo has taught her that any interaction with him involves either insults, bad comedy, New Monarchy or about the planet he supposedly owns.

"What do you want, Red?" She asked with a slight smirk and a brush of her midnight blue hair, always finding the Exo's presence fairly enlightening or even amusing at times. "And what have I said about calling me that?"

Red-16 chuckled slightly, his red optics gleaming with mischief and clear amusement. "I was just wondering if you would take me up on my earlier offer…"

Fiona sighed. Yeah, she was right. It was about his planet again. "I have." She replied with false optimism with a very false smile. Red-16's eyes gleamed with excitement at the Awoken's supposed enthusiasm. "I thought about it a lot…"

"Well?"

She quickly smacked his armoured head, making him rub his metal cranium with slight pain. "The answer is no, you mechanical moron!" She declared with a mock glare, glaring at him with her luminous red eyes.

He glared back, his optics flaring with rage. "And why not?!" He exclaimed, the argument attracting the attention of some other Guardians in the hanger.

Fiona growled in frustration. "Because it's crazy, you freaking weirdo!" She growled wile clenching her armoured fists, Arc energy surging through them. "I will not be your jester for this imaginary kingdom you have created on Venus!"

"You dare defy me, peasant!" He snapped, his exclamation laced with humour to hopefully get a response from the newly formed crowed; everyone in the tower knew he was a showman at his core.

Amanda Holiday slammed her hand on the railing as she angrily barked at the bickering Guardians. "Will ya both shut your yaps before I come down there and do it for ya!" Her point was punctuated as she threw a wrench at Red, the metal object colliding with his cranium.

"Hey!" He complained as he rubbed his head. "She was the one to cause such a stir in our conversation, my lovely Amanda!"

Amanda smirked. "How do you think big, ol' Alex will react to yer behaviour?" She asked, noticing him flinch slightly at the mention of their leader.

Fiona also smirked. "Yeah, Red." She remarked. "What will he think?"

Red pulled at his collar nervously. "You should remember, Fiona, that if I fall, you fall to!" He retorted. "Anyway, what the big lug doesn't know can't hurt him…"

Before Red could continue, a large armoured figure stepped between the two and grabbed them both by their armours collar. They both looked towards the figure and nearly paled in sheer terror of the furious gaze of their Commander, his luminous purple eyes glowing with rage and disappointment.

"What are the two of you doing?" He asked in a monotonous voice, the anger in his eyes betraying his emotionless façade. "What have I told you about infighting?"

Both the accused glanced at each other and then back at their leader, the two of them glancing downwards in shame. "It brings down the teams moral..." They replied monotonously, the shame evident in their eyes as he placed them both to the ground.

"And…"

The two Guardians sighed as their leader waited expectantly for their answer, both them hoping that their leader would only scold them and not do something much worse. The two of them had been through this same lecture over seventeen times in the past and it really was getting old.

"We will only regret it later…"

The Titan smirked as he felt the surge of victory flare through his body, thinking of how much he loved to be in command. "So, have either of you seen Cyrus today?" He asked as he brushed his hair, watching his teammates with a careless smirk.

Fiona nodded with a small smile on her face. "Yes, sir." She replied with a mock salute, Red-16 snickering from behind her. "He has gone to complete a bounty on the Moon, something about the Temple of Crota…"

Alexanders smile fell into a look of shock, his eyes dilating in pure terror at the news he had just recently received. "What did you just say?" He asked with a shaky breath, Fiona tilting her head in slight confusion.

"I said that he has gone to the Moon to complete a bounty. Apparently it involves the Temple of Crota…" Fiona watched her commander's eyes carefully, seeing the obvious fear in them and her eyes slowly matched Alexanders. "Wh-what's w-wrong, Alex?"

"We need to go, now!"

-Scene Change-

As the portal stopped expanding, a solitary Witch poured through and screamed with an unholy might, making the Warlock cover his helmeted ears in a desperate attempt to block out her wails. He glanced upwards to see her lash against the air, tearing open a small rift and shrouding the area in a coat of mist. The Warlock retreated himself until he hit a wall, finding that his only entrance had been blocked by the Witch's dark mist.

' _We're completely surrounded!'_

As the mist cleared, he started to notice many new silhouettes roam the room as if they were searching for their prey. To avoid them for a moment longer, Cyrus kept incredibly still and hoped that none of them would notice his presence. However, just as he began to slowly creep towards the distant archway his boot landed on the remains of the previously deceased Knight. The resounding crack caught the attention of the many wandering silhouettes, their many eyes glaring in his direction with the unholy might of Crota.

The Hive unleashed a hellish scream, their talons igniting in Arc energy and crackling uncontrollably. The Guardian's eyes widened as he saw horde of Thrall screaming as they charged towards his still form, the Warlock unable to react as he was paralysed with fear beyond natural human comprehension.

' _We have lost Dagger! The mission is a failure we need to move, now!'_

Sera went into a panic as her Guardian refused to move. "Cyrus!" She screamed as she rematerialized and started to nudge the Guardian, hoping he would respond or at least move. "What are you doing?!" Her screams were nullified to his ears, his senses only able to pick up upon the abominable screams that came from his attackers and the thoughts of his imminent death. "Move, Cyrus!"

' _For the love of God, run!'_

Cyrus felt his fear heighten, the muscles of his legs refusing to obey his orders and instead choosing to condemn him to a similar fate to his previous comrades. In the three years since he was revived as a Guardian, he had seen so much death that he could not remember the body count; he had seen many Guardians fall to forces of the Darkness and he knew it was starting to taint his mind with the corruption that comes with remorse or guilt. However, the deaths that weighed most on his soul were the deaths of his previous Fireteam; they were the people who trained him in mind and soul and he had considered them family. He had seen this before, this same instance and same event unfolded a few years before and the last time it cost him the people he loved.

His eyes dilated and narrowed as fear and terror consumed him, his vision became blurry as he started to collapse on one knee and clutched his armoured head as he roared in agony. He could sense them coming closer, his memories showing him a past event that was almost identical to this one. As his eyes gazed ahead, he could see flashes of rotting and dead bodies long past but they seemed to be reality to the poor broken individual. He knew those bodies, he knew them personally and the guilt that came with them was almost to immense for natural comprehension.

They were the people he let die…

" _Cyrus!" His teammate called as they sprinted through the tunnels of the Paris' catacombs, a trio of Crota's knights following with a viscous and murderous intent. "I need you to get your head in the game and find us a way out before we get swarmed!" The leader of their team, an Exo by the name of Kronos-32, had halted his movements and began to unleash a magnitude of firepower towards the knights, his Awoken teammate, known as Libra, assisting as he sliced and diced any of the stragglers following them. "Take Dagger and find us an exit!"_

 _Cyrus nodded as he and his other Exo teammate, a Hunter known as Dagger-13, sprinted through the catacombs, slaughtering any Hive in sight as to try and reach the exit. As they continued to struggle their ways towards salvation, Dagger-13 noticed a pathway back to above ground._

" _Cyrus!" She exclaimed as she pulled him in the direction of the exit, both of them firing at any Hive in their way. "Follow m-"_

 _The Exo's sentence was cut short as she was impaled from behind by a spindly and deformed hand, the sharp talons the creature owned as fingers flared with Arc energy. The resulting wound sprayed the Warlock in Dagger's own lifeblood, the very synthetic liquid that keeps her alive._

 _His eyes widened as he watched her optics dim and her body fall limp as her systems shut themselves down; the horror only continued as the Thrall grabbed hold of her newly orphaned Ghost and ripped the little light to shreds within its energised talons. The creature's attention turned towards him, Crota's own hatred reflecting in the monster's eyes and its scream tearing at any local sound waves with a disgusting cacophony of terror._

 _Cyrus' instincts kicked in as he picked up the limp form of Daggers body and ran down the path his teammates had originally been, hoping they were still alive. He ran through the catacombs of Paris, his Future War Cult bond illuminating the armours colour scheme and the skulls that littered the walls._

' _We have lost Dagger! The mission is a failure we need to move, now!' Cyrus exclaimed through the com as he clutched onto her form, refusing to let any more of these monsters hurt her. "I'm coming to you!"_

" _We're completely surrounded!" Kronos roared as he and Libra continued to fight the relentless hoards. "You need to get out of here, Cyrus! We need you alive!" His orders fell on death ears as Cyrus continued towards their location, his determination driving him to try and reach his companions. "For the love of God, Run!"_

 _As he came to a halt within a large archway, his visor was suddenly smeared with flailing red blood; the small part of the visor that wasn't smeared allowed him to see the spindly body of a Hive Wizard ferociously tearing Libra to shreds and discarding his body to the ground. The Guardian fell to his knees as he watched the body slam against the ground with a distinctive crack, his body wracked with tremors of utmost fear._

 _He dropped Dagger-13's body from his arms and laid her carefully in a coffin position, her arms crossed over her chest. Cyrus glanced over to the decimated body of his team leader and noticed that he had been ripped apart piece by tiny piece, his synthetic entrails spread across the ground._

 _The Warlock felt his body tremble and his eye twitching furiously with unbridled rage and fear, his body being consumed in the Void energy he controlled, the energy roaring with power._

"Burn!"

-Scene Change-

Alexander and his Fireteam had been searching for hours now, investigating every cave and every temple as to find his missing teammate. They all hoped dearly that they could find him as losing Cyrus was something none of them could forgive themselves for; he was to close a comrade to lose and a member of their dysfunctional family.

"Oh, God!" Fiona said as she sprinted in a panic, her fears heightened by the prospect of losing her mentor. "Where is he?! We need to find him!"

Red-16 kept searching each archway as they progressed through the temple, a sound of grinding gears representing his angry grunts each time he found nothing. "Dammit!" Red barked as he continued searching. "Where are you, you silent son of a bitch!"

Alexander halted his movements as he found the remains of a Hive knight, his foot crunching the exoskeletal remains with ease. He looked into the catacomb to see their missing Guardian but was not prepared for what he saw. Fiona and Red caught up to him, their own eyes locking on the Warlock's position and their pupils dilating at the horror in front of them. Fiona raised a hand over her helmets respirator and gasped, tears flowing down her dark coloured cheeks at the sight before her.

Against the catacomb wall sat the Warlock, his body was kept huddled to itself and his entirety was wracked with tremors of pure terror. The ground around him was littered with corpse of the dispatched creatures, most of them deformed beyond any recognition. In his hand were the remains of a Witches armoured cranium, his hand clenched around it as if clinging on for dear life. Unlike his usually silent self he kept mumbling the same words over and over as if he were a patient within an asylum, his sanity questionable.

" _ **Paris… Kronos…"**_

"Dammit!" Red-16 barked as he turned away and slammed his metallic hand into the stone wall behind him, his grunt sounding like grinding gears. "Not again…"

" _ **Catacombs… Libra…"**_

"Oh, Cyrus …" Fiona whispered as she watched the disturbed Guardian whimper and cry the words of his past, his body wracked with tremors of terror. "I should have been here, I shouldn't have let him go alone…"

" _ **Crota… Dagger…"**_

Alexander sighed as he called upon his Ghost, his memories of the first time he met Cyrus being revised and revisited. "Ash?" He asked his Ghost, the small black object appearing in his hand. "Inform the tower that we have an emergency and will need medical assistance for our return." He glanced at the broken Guardian, a frown pushing onto his lips. "Inform them that the patient is Cyrus…"

" _ **My fault…"**_


	2. Chapter II: Shadows consume thee

Hey, everyone. I am back for another round and I hope this chapter will be as well received as my previous. Firstly, I want to thank the people who have followed, favoured and reviewed my work and I hope I can keep you guys entertained.

Now, at this point I will start accepting OCs for the story and if you wish to see yours in the story then please PM me with their details, name, weapons, armour, appearance and even their romantic preference (if they are to be or not to be romantically involved with anyone.) Also, please make them realistic. Not incredibly godlike or any of that smeg, just be appropriate. Lastly, I am really sorry for the long wait as I have had no actual capability to interact with a computer for six months. You have no idea how angry I was with myself about his.

Shout-outs: I like to point out that I am grateful to Killiani and Xy-Guy for letting me use their characters, so, thanks a lot guys.

Excuse for re-update: The reason this has been updated again is because I had to make one or two changes.

Disclaimer: As you know, I do not own this franchise. Only some of the OCs and others go to their respective owners.

So, let's get started…

Chapter II: Shadows that consume thee…

" _ **My fault…"**_

Red-16 flinched as he heard the Warlock repeat the same damned thing over and over again, each statement seeming sadder by the second. He had only seen the Warlock in this state once before and even then he was determined to be sure he never saw it again, not in this lifetime anyway. It was a tragic sight to say the least and he hated to see it as he believed that Cyrus was too morally good a person for this kind of thing to happen to, bringing up the thoughts of a very common phrase he has heard humans say: _Life isn't fair…_

The Hunter turned towards the bed that Cyrus had been restrained to, watching his struggles and his tremors of fear wrack his form and his occasional whimpers of the names of his previous fireteam. "I can't believe we let this happen again…" He muttered as he slammed his fist into the metal column beside him, pulling his hood over his unarmoured head; it seemed to be a compulsive action to hide guilt and shame, probably hardwired into his systems. "He should have never gone out alone…"

Sitting beneath the window was the despairing form of Fiona, her midnight blue hair shadowing her eyes as she sat with her legs huddled close to her chest. Out of the entire group, Fiona seemed to have been hurt the most after seeing the whimpering form they had found in those catacombs. From the start of her career as a Guardian, Fiona had spent most of her time being trained by and looking up to the disturbed Warlock but to see him in such a weak and frail state was rather frightening. However, she also felt rather insulted as she had originally had no idea that the Guardian she admired so much had been through something so traumatic.

Red-16's own mood was vastly different from the Titans as all he could feel is the sharp sting of guilt churn his core, his grip on the metallic wall growing with every passing second and he felt as if he was going to have to leave as to avoid more damage to the structure around him. As much as he may have been a fairly carefree guy, Red was one of the few people who had promised he would never let the poor Guardian be pulled into such darkness and despair again. He made sure of that the first day that he, Alexander and an FWC supporting Hunter named Spectre-42 first discovered the lonesome wreck known as Cyrus Kitori.

Fiona gazed upwards as the door to the medical room opened and Doctor Kara wandered out to the awaiting two Guardians, looking around for their Fireteam leader. "Where is Alexander?" She asked sternly as the two Guardians tensed and exchanged looks of concern.

"He went to go see a friend of his and he seemed rather urgent to talk to him." Red-16 replied quickly, his optics locking onto the ground below him. "We have not seen him for many an hour…"

The Doctor gave them both blank looks, seeming disinterested with the answer they provided. "I guess I will just inform the both of you then…" She said with a slight hint of malice in her tone, sounding as I she was infuriated by the Titans lack of presence. "Physically he is fine, apart from clear exhaustion from the skirmish he was just in."

Before Kala could continue, Fiona interrupted her. "So why can't I see him then?!" She barked while looking ready to tear the head off a Vex Minotaur. Red-16 nearly scoffed at how she only mentioned how _she_ wanted to see Cyrus. "And why have you restrained him?!"

The Doctors gaze formed an irritated glare. "Let me finish, Fiona!" She snapped, making Fiona back down slightly. "We have restrained him because he is a danger to not only others but himself." She sighed as she gazed towards the whimpering wreck of a man, trying his hardest to pull the restraints from his appendages. "His psychology report was not very promising. As you know, Cyrus is not known for being an unstable individual but this event may have driven him over the edge of what was his stable psyche."

Red's crimson optics narrowed slightly as he heard the doctor's diagnosis. "What do you mean by ' _he is a danger to himself'_?" The New Monarchy representative asked as he leaned closer to the medical professional, his attempts to intimidate her and get more information was becoming rather futile.

The doctor matched his glaring optics with a cold gaze. "I mean what I say, Red-16!" She snapped, making the Exo flinch. "After he was admitted to our facility he attacked a few members of our medical staff in an attempt to steal one of our surgical knives," Fiona gasped as she continued to listen to the medical professional. "The reason for his acquisition of the knife is… painfully obvious." Her eyes locked towards the ground as she disclosed this information, her very analytical eyes watching the Exo give another synthetic flinch and witnessing Fiona collapse to the ground in despair.

Red-16 grinded the gears in his metallic throat to create a signature Exo sigh and walked up to the glass to watch the Guardian as he struggled and writhed in pain, his hidden lips muttering the same words he had been beckoning in his sleep for the past few years.

Deciding that nothing could be done with him just lingering in the medical wing, Red decided to take his own leave and try to clear his own head. "Inform me of any change, okay?" He requested as she nodded in response, leaving him to his own thoughts as he walked away.

Red-16 felt a large sting of guilt as he walked away from both his incapacitated friend and the grieving Titan, wishing he knew how to solve this problem. On one hand, a large majority of his guilt was mainly directed towards the unstable Warlocks condition and his failure to stop this event from happening again but his other thoughts were on the despairing Titan. After all her time spent in the team and even alongside the disturbed Warlock, Fiona had never heard the story of how Cyrus had become who he was. He guessed that it was a mercy for her mind to never know.

He thought back to when he, Alexander and Spector-42 delved into the darkest pits of Paris' catacombs to search for a missing Fireteam. This was the first time that Fireteam Spirit had been declared a true team under the eyes of the Speaker and the Vanguard, charged with finding missing

Ghosts and Guardians whom had lost their way. This was a task that any Guardian, no matter how arrogant or impetuous, would be proud of.

Their progress through the Vanguards ranks rose fairly quickly as the originally three manned team were usually always successful in their missions, finding not only their objectives but also many artefacts or relics for the cryptarchs to examine and catalogue in their vaults. Sadly for them, their regular association with Fireteam Spirit gave Red-16 the incentive to name them as his own _Royal Advisors._ This was much to their chagrin and they had later demanded that their dealings with the team be done with Alex or Spector and never again with the self-proclaimed _King of Venus_.

This speedy progress was soon halted when the Vanguard requested that they search the pits of Paris' catacombs for a missing Fireteam by the name of Seeker, hoping to either recover their Ghosts or the team altogether. Spirit ventured to one of the darkest of earths pits with the arrogance that nothing could ever stop them, that they never held any fear and could not be defeated.

This blinded sense of arrogance and pride was shattered at the very moment they discovered the first dismembered corpse that had been left to rot at its own accord. The body was that of an Awoken who had been completely torn apart by the horrific creatures that lurked in these catacombs; his tattered and torn armour indicated that he was of the Hunter variation. However, the one detail that made his corpse all the more sickening was the fact that he was missing some of his limbs and appendages; the most notable part missing was his head. A side note was that his Ghost had been ripped to shreds, something that was not to shocking but was instead expected.

They continued through the caverns, that blind arrogance and confidence fading with every step. They found a second corpse of an Exo with his internal parts splayed across the ground, his lower half had been missing but the damage was obvious. The information his corpse had left behind had given the team the indication that the Exo had received the brunt of the attack; this was assumed by the horrifying way his synthetic organs had been removed. Red almost felt what could be seen as sick when he had stepped in some of the synthetics own lifeblood. Still, they noted that this guardians Ghost was also decimated beyond repair.

After that, they had discovered the cowering form of their later teammate, a disturbed Warlock by the name of Cyrus Kitori; he muttered and wept in the corner of the room, repeating the same phrases he muttered in his sleep to this day. He had been found the same way as he did recently, clutching to head of a Hive Wizard and lashing out at anyone who tried to pry it from his hands. It was horrible enough for a man to go through so much hardship and horror once in his life but twice…

Red -16 could not even comprehend what his mind had gone through…

Still, it was not Red's place to pry into the many horrible things his friend had seen but something to do with that mission was off. They had been told that the team consisted of a Human, an Awoken and two Exos. They had only found one Exo, that being of the Titan and the leader of the Seekers. The other, in secret, had been reported missing. Even to this day, Red-16, Spector-42 and Alexander had felt incredibly guilty about not telling Cyrus but thought it best that he never find out. He had already been through enough traumas as it is.

However, the thought still plagued him to this day. How could she have escaped the fight after Cyrus had said that she had been impaled by the hand of a Hive Thrall? He knew more than anyone that an Exo had the chance to return to life if they had rebooted but that can take days, months and even years. Not in under an hour!

He shook his head as to clear his mind and continued his stroll towards the New Monarchy's lounge, thinking nothing more on the matter.

It was nothing more than foolish superstitions anyway…

-Scene Change—

"You called, Alex?" The Hunter famously named Eddie asked as he approached the depressed Titan at one of the Towers many balconies, his footsteps as silent as ever.

The Awoken glanced at him from the side, his luminous eyes slightly dimmer than their usual flare. This look was not common for the Titan as he usually rather the bright and optimistic individual, most of his expressions being brought to life through his very mischievous eyes but today was different. His emotionless façade was the same as it had always been but his eyes gave away his true feelings, they always betrayed him. This was something Eddie always recognised and Alexander knew it.

"Clearly something is wrong, so you might as well tell me." Eddie said as he leaned against the rail.

Alex grimaced as he said the words, feeling that he had no right to talk about the events that had transpired; he was delusional enough to believe that he was to blame. "One of my team has been admitted to the infirmary," he explained as he clenched his iron grip to the balcony rail, making it scream in surrender to his force. "And we are not sure they will recover this time…"

Eddie sighed as he received the information, thinking that no matter how many times that you hear the same reports it does not get any easier. "Was it the new girl?" He asked. Alex nearly let out a dark chuckle as he thought of how little faith people had in the team's only other Awoken.

"No." His tone was slightly sharp as if merely saying anything about the matter made him angry. "It was Cyrus." He felt a large weight land upon his shoulders as he said the name. It was obvious why he felt this way. He felt guilt, an immense and overpowering guilt over his comrade's condition. His mind had been trying to force a sense of self-loathing into his mind and he was starting to believe it.

"Seriously?" Alex nodded at his friend's question. "Hasn't the kid suffered enough?" Eddie remarked sympathetically as he leaned more-so against the rail, his own mind looking back to his teams' newest addition. "I know how you are feeling at this point Alex; I felt the same when Gabe was admitted a few months ago. It's at least good he is on his feet and improving now."

The leader of Spirit raised an eyebrow. "You never did tell me who else was in your team." He remarked to the leader of Zulu as he smirked. "I only know about Gabe and that is from personally meeting him. Sorry for nearly getting him killed by the way…"

Eddie waved it off. "its fine, Alex. He doesn't blame you anyway. He was actually concerned about Cyrus and if he was okay, wondering if he was injured by the blast or not." He explained as he suddenly noticed Alex's frown at the mention of Cyrus. "I will just tell him that he is fine…"

"No." Alex ordered sternly. "Tell him the truth about his current condition." Eddie looked at him quite surprised, wondering what had got into his Awoken friend. "There is no point in lying to him or concealing the truth. Just be honest with him." Eddie nodded.

"Anyway, we've got Theresa and also Avora." He explained as Alex smirked at both the names, holding back some laughter. "They have both settled in quite nicely."

"Avora? Haven't spoken to her since our row over whom could do the most push ups after two hours of water deprivation." Alex starred out towards the large spherical deity as hovering over earths, watching the lines formed by the in the sky by the perimeter shield flash periodically. "And I am pretty sure we both know why Theresa hasn't spoken to my team in quite a while." He stated as Eddie nodded in understanding. "That fiasco with Red's flirting and the later, shall we call it, 'dispute' with Cyrus nearly tore the Crucible fields asunder." He gave a slightly embarrassed smirk. "Sorry about getting us in trouble, by the way…"

"Yeah…" Eddie responded with his own lopsided smirk. "I really shouldn't have let her get that far." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I had no idea Cyrus or Theresa could get so vicious or destructive while they were angry…" His eyes suddenly narrowed in thought, his hand rubbing his chin. "Who won that fight anyway? Theresa wouldn't tell me…"

Alex shook his head. "Neither. By the time the match was over they had both collapsed and passed out in the middle of the field," he chuckled before he continued. "With half of the destroyed Anomaly Facility research station around them."

His recently acquired joyous mood was soon soured as his mind went back to his friend's current condition. Eddie patted the Titans back as he dragged him in the direction of the shipyard. "No more mopping, Alex." He remarked. "Let's go get a drink and think about something else."

Alex nodded. "Sure. Maybe you could explain to me how you are a higher rank then I am." Eddie chuckled at the comment. "Again."

Soon the work of the ever vigilant Cryptarch's was interrupted by the hearty laughter of the two Fireteam leaders as they left for a friendly drink at the bar…

-Scene Change—

Lakshmi-2 had been rather vigilant as of late as she had assessed one of her fellow member's conditions from the lounge of the Future War Cults, the rooms camera hacked by some of her operatives to watch any of her friends condition. As many had placed her to be a rather cold or unapproachable person but what anyone outside of the Cult did not know was that she deeply cared for any of her fellow members, watching over them when no one else would.

She had held herself responsible for Cyrus' condition; this accusation based on the fact that she let him go on this mission, being fully aware of his past and his troubles. Her vigilant work had been to investigate the identity of the anonymous benefactor of the Cult and the same person who had given them the mission in the first place.

From what she has gathered by the voice message she had received from the anonymous person, Lakshmi-2 guessed that this person was an Exo. Not only that but she didn't change her voice in any way as there was no sign of a filter, bringing more to the table as to her identity. Finally, the last piece of evidence so far is that she had specifically requested that Cyrus by the one to investigate, alone. Apart from that she had no evidence to assist her.

"Anything?" The ever loyal Spector-42 asked as he strolled into the lounge, laying his rifle onto the table and pulling out an old piece of cloth to clean it.

"Nothing more than you already know, Spector." She remarked as she indicated for her Ghost to rest, the small machine disappearing from sight. "How has your own research been going?"

Spector shrugged as he polished his gun, being careful as he brushed the trigger. No one understood why he never replaced the broken safety latch on his weapon. "No. I have got nothing to go on." His hood lowered more at the thought of being able to do nothing to help his friend. "Yeah, its times like this when I wish Warden-217 was here..."

Lakshmi-2 two sighed as she walked towards a terminal, her fingers tapping against the holographic interface. "That's not good enough!" She snapped. "We need to find out who she is and soon!"

-Scene Change—

The stone has been silent for a while now. Its cry's had been very few as of late, the emerald flames continuing their permanent eruption of despair. These moments of silence were a blessing to the corrupted Guardian known as Eris Morn, a once proud protector of the light who has lost her way while she was trapped in that pit with what the Hive called a God.

Eris was the kind of person that the average citizen and even Guardian would avoid on sight. Her mere presence made her an outcast in the tower and as much as the Vanguard had insisted she leave, the Speaker had declared that she stay under their protection and that she would be a useful asset against the Hive.

Though there were many would blatantly avoid her and her cause, there were those one-in-ten who would openly support her and help her whenever they could. For these few people she was eternally grateful. One of these was Cyrus Kitori. She had first looked for him when she had heard of his dealings with the monstrous creatures she despised so much. She had found him interesting, found something about him that was not only full of light but also found something dark within him.

This small shred of darkness within his soul was enough to spike Eris' interest. That alone was slightly concerning to other Guardians. Whenever others would associate Eris with death and destruction, Cyrus was one of the only people to openly associate her as a trusted friend and companion.

She gazed downwards towards the Husk she had been sent from Cyrus' team. She was slightly concerned with the weapons hidden intention as it seemed to react every time it approached something of Hive origin. It spoke to her; it would whisper to her the name of its chosen owner, the name of a Guardian and friend of whom she was very worried for.

The gun seemed to writhe with a sick enjoyment as it approached these artefacts, it was the same enjoyment that could be felt in a bloodthirsty adrenaline rush and that was what she was concerned for. She had opted to name this as a type of cannibalism to its own kind and it seemed as if this gun was nothing more than a weapon of hate.

The gun would whisper night and day, calling out for its chosen owner to wield it in battle against the coming threat of the Hive. The Husk of the Pit would whisper and call one name and one name only…

Cyrus Kitori…

-Scene Change-

Fiona gasped as her eyes flew open, her lungs desperately clawing for air as her mind attempted to recover from the recent nightmare. Her dilated eyes looked around the corridor erratically as too try and identify her surroundings. She hated these moments after a nightmare. The moment of helplessness, feeling terrified of something that did not even exist.

She sighed in relief at the recognition of her surroundings, he body settling back to a relaxed and calm position against the granite walls. Even in her armour, she was still comfortable. Many others would think her crazy for finding her armour a comfort but she knew why she liked it. It was a sense of security, feeling like she was always ready for a war that may never come or be ready to help her team when she needed to. She frowned as she remembered why she was here. The thought of her… _friend_ being in such pain and she had no way of helping.

She narrowed her eyes as she thought of the way she designated Cyrus. Friend. It was such a simple word to designate him. She wasn't sure if he fitted in that category, if he belonged in the so childishly called _friend-zone_. She considered her teammates as friends. She had considered that young Guardian known as Gabriel Locker a friend, even after such a short time meeting him. She considered Zavala and Cayde-6 as friends, she had so many and she was grateful for them all.

Still, why was it whenever she thought of Cyrus as a… _friend_ she felt as if it were wrong, as if it was somehow an insult to call him such? Maybe Amanda would know, or possibly Petra. She smirked at the thoughts of what they would say to her, thinking that it was weird what friends she has.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a loud thump. Her eyes watched the corridors suspiciously, being careful to watch for any movement. The last thing she had wanted was for someone to sneak in and attack Cyrus while he was down. She trusted most of the people in the tower but that doesn't mean she will let her guard down for a second, she would let no one except for the medical staff enter his room.

The thump resounded again, louder this time. She did not understand where it was coming from but was sure she felt slightly irritated not knowing what it was. Like her teammate Spector-42, Fiona despised no knowing something. Not knowing was a way of being blind in the field. Not knowing could doom you because of your incompetence and she has seen what not knowing has done to other Guardians.

She heard another thump but this one was accompanied by words; words from a voice so strained that it was painful to even the ear. The raspy voice was close as if it were right beside her. Maybe she was hearing things?

No, the voice came from Cyrus' room. She turned to see the Warlock that she admired, writhing again like he had been earlier, his voice beckoning for help. This time, however, he was looking directly at her through the window.

He was calling to her…

 _ **D-Don't le-lea-leave m-me…**_

She barged the door open with her own brute strength, unhinging the latch slightly and slamming it against a granite wall. Her eyes locked onto him. His body was strapped down to the bed, the constriction on his arms and legs making him unable to move. His armour had not been removed but they had removed his helmet, showing her a face she has only seen on a few rare occasions before.

His skin was a deathly pale, almost like Eris'. On his cheek was a small black marker with the letters _FWC_ ; Fiona recognised this as a sign of his connections to the Cult but also saw how faded it was. To the observant this could be related to his faded and distant relations to the Cult now. He had some very light stubble around his jaw but it was tidy, as if he had shaved it recently and efficiently. His hair had a fair length to it, framing his face fairly well with the longest part being at the back, half way down his neck. Its colour was a midnight black, a darkness that could match the void of space. His eyes had black rings around them from a clear lack of sleep, almost shadowing the iris' themselves.

Then she saw them. She saw the one aspect that stood out from the rest of him: his eyes. They were a warm hazel with beautiful flecks of verdant, full of emotion and light. They did not shine like an Awokens but to Fiona they shone in their own way, they were rich with his joy and sadness. The Love and hatred they held. The light and darkness he bore in his soul. It was like a spectrum to her and she was always glad that only she saw it, making hers and hers alone.

She slowly stepped towards him and slowly entangled her fingers in his hair, brushing her hand across his cheek. He relaxed into her touch, his squirms and muscle spasms subsiding as he felt the soft touch of the Awoken woman. She pulled away for a second to remove her glove and hesitantly touch his face once more, her breath hitched as she touched his skin for the first time with her own bare hands.

She pulled up a nearby chair and sat herself upon it, being sure to not remove her hand from Cyrus' face. She thought more on her earlier designations for Cyrus, earlier finding it an insult to call him friend. She was starting to think that he was something else to her, something closer, intimate even.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Cyrus' muttering. She leaned closer as she heard him mutter something, his words being nothing more than a mere whisper in the wind.

"Cyrus? Did you say something?" She asked softly, watching as he slowly turned to her.

His eyes bored into hers and she almost swooned at their gaze. However, they suddenly changed. Those trancing hazel eyes were suddenly consumed in an eerie green glow, the same green that was regularly accustomed to the Hive and it was the same green glow that Eris had in her own eyes. Fiona gasped when she saw their empty depths and the fear etched into them.

 _ **I can hear him…**_

Fiona panicked as she called upon her ghost. "Cryotech!" She exclaimed as her weathered blue and red Ghost appeared by her side, his single optic glowing brightly. "Get the team and Doctor Kara here now! Tell Alexander to bring Eris Morn! It's an emergency!"

"Of course." He replied as he gave many residual beeps indicating the sent messages. "Messages sent!"

 _ **He is coming to avenge his name…**_

Fiona held his face in her hands, trying to get through to him. "Cyrus!" Her pleas fell on death ears. "It's me, Fiona! Please snap out of it! Please come back to me!"

 _ **He is the what the Hive deem to be God…**_

"Who? Who is this God?!"

 _ **His name is Crota and he is angry, Fiona…**_

"How do you know this?" She asked as she heard the scurrying footsteps down the granite corridors, waiting impatiently for her team to arrive. Even having Eris here would give her some comfort. "Was it Eris? Did she tell you about Crota?"

 _ **No, I was enlightened by a more powerful voice…**_

"Who's voice was it, Cyrus?!"

The words that escaped his lips and the look he responded with terrified her to her very soul…

 _ **The voice of the darkness told me all…**_


	3. Chapter III: Tainted Relic, Tainted mind

Hello everyone, its Paragon and I am back for another round of Fireteam Spirit. I know I made some mistakes in the previous chapters and I apologise for my awful editing skill. Anyway, the first thing I would like to say is a thank you to the people who reviewed and favoured my work. You guys keep me going.

I would like to point out a second time that I am accepting OCs from anyone so please PM me and I will give you a format for how I wish them to be. It makes my job a lot easier. I will do my best to include them in the story. So, if you want your characters to be in it don't be shy!

Also, I am really sorry for taking so long…

Shout-outs: I would like to give one big shout-out to Phantomslayer230 and The Wolf Keeper for donating their characters to my cause! Thank you very much!

Disclaimer: As you know, I do not own this franchise. I only own some of the OCs and others go to their respective owners.

And, finally, Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays and have a smegging great new year! I love you all!

So, let's get started…

Chapter III: Tainted Relics, Tainted minds…

"No! Don't take me away from him!" Fiona demanded as she was being pulled back by both Red-16 and Spectre-42, her current strength not being enough to stand against the two Exos. She pushed and shoved against them with all her might but it was not enough to get her through. "Let go of me!"

When her team, Doctor Kara and Eris entered the medical wing Fiona had been filled with some relief, thinking that if anyone could help Cyrus it was them. However, what she didn't expect was that Eris would have her removed from the room and only keep herself, the Doctor and Alex with him. She found it to be a complete outrage and even expressed this as a threat of maiming was thrown around in the conversation.

"He needs me!" She beckoned as she tried to remove herself from the two Exo and fight her way in, her efforts becoming slightly more successful with every passing second. "I can help him!"

Red-16 grunted as he got an elbow to the face. "Little sis, will you calm down and let Eris do her work!" He tried to explain as she continued to struggle; Red was starting to get worried as he saw the Spectre tense and reach for his Scout Rifle. "If she needed you out then you need to stay out!"

Finding no other alternative, Spectre-42 growled as he shoved Red-16 to the ground and grabbed a hold of her head quite roughly. With a large amount of force, he slammed the back of her head against the wall to disorientate her. She shook her head and tried to get back up but her eyes widened in fear as he grabbed his NA3D1 Salvation State and unlatched the safety, his target being dead in the centre of her temple. The Awoken remained perfectly still as she starred down the barrel of the Scout Rifle, her thoughts scattering as she felt herself freeze in pure terror.

"Enough!" His body did not give a synthetic twitch, his arms did not falter and his poise remained strong as he confidently held the barrel towards his companion's temple. "If you move even one inch I will scatter yours brains across this wall before you can say _Praedyth_!"

Throughout her entire career as a Guardian, Fiona has never felt so much terror as she was experiencing right at this very second. She has faced down many gun barrels before. Some have been from her fellow Guardians in the Crucible and others from her many foes and enemies out in the field but she she never thought she would ever stare down the barrel of a teammates gun. When a Fallen Dreg or a Vex Goblin would aim their weapons at her she would act without a single solitary thought and exterminate the foe but for the weapon to be owned by someone she trusted… she had no comprehensible idea of how to react.

Red-16 grabbed Spectre by the shoulder and roughly pulled him back, the other Exo shrugging him off. "Hey, back off!" Red ordered, forcing his fellow Exo to stare him dead in the optics. "She is just worried about Cyrus, you jerk!" The beige Exo poked Spectre's metal chest with a single digit. "If you had any sense of remorse then you would lay off her."

Even without any optics, Spectre-42's cold gaze gave them both shivers. Fiona's natural. Red's synthetic. The Hunter switched his sights target to Red's armoured cranium, standing in front of the medical rooms door in a fighting stance. "If you even try to go in there yourself then I will have no problem making you _Red-17_ with this next bullet!" He remarked as he fired a warning shot at a nearby wall, indicating for the self-proclaimed monarch to back off. "I know you are both concerned for him but you need to trust me and the others to know what is best for him in this condition!"

Fiona found the courage to stand, facing the Exo with a new sense of defiance. "And how am I supposed to trust you?!" Spectre shook his head as and switched his sights back to her. "You just pointed a gun in my face and now I need to take your word for Cyrus' condition?!"

"I have seen Eris work before and I know what she is doing cannot be interrupted." He reached into a small pocket on his side and pulled out a small remnant of what appeared to have once been an armoured helmet. "If we interrupted the ritual the process could kill Cyrus or… worse." He explained while clenching his hand on the object rather aggressively before returning it back into his pocket. In a Human or Awoken this would be seen as an attempt of self-harm over an inner frustration. Maybe it could be argued that Exo's are not much different after all. "Trust me. I have seen it happen before…"

The look in Fiona's eyes easily explained to Spectre that she was having none of it, that she was completely unwilling to listen to all reason and only do what she believed needed to be done. By her own logic she had every right to be this angry with the Exo and, in a sense, he agreed with her. All she wanted was to get to Cyrus and try to help him but Spectre knew that she was still fairly young and inexperienced in such matters as these. He could not condemn her for her actions as they were completely justified but that still didn't make them acceptable. He would have to stop her one way or another. Whether that would have to be in the form of a fist or a bullet would be decided by her next actions.

Fiona persisted. "I don't care what mistakes you have made in the past; you malfunctioning motor-head!" She barked as she pulled out her own weapon, aiming her Praedyth's Timepiece pulse rifle towards Spectre's armoured skull. "He is the only person I truly have in my life that I can talk to! He is the only person who will listen to me!" Spectre had seen this type of anger before. It was an emotion he was accustomed to but was lucky enough to never feel such; times such as this he was happy that his mind _wipes_ washed away most of his memories. The actions being shown by Fiona, that represented the certain emotion, was the reason why Guardians were advised to avoid any attachments to others. "He needs me in there! I won't abandon him, not again!"

The two stood with their eyes fixed on each other, one waiting for the other to move. It was a game of chicken, a game of who would fire first or fire at all. This was a game that Spectre was all too familiar with as he had played the same one many times with other Guardians and Xenos, each one ending in their death or incapacitation. He has fought many enemies in his time, most being creatures of a xeno origin but some being of fellow Guardians turned rogue. He hated his job and he had always hoped that the Guardians he had to point his gun towards would never be his teammates but he also knew that he needed to be realistic. He needed to be able to pull that trigger whenever necessary, whether it be aimed towards an enemy or a friend.

"Fiona," Spectre began. "If you break into that room you could kill Cyrus or worse corrupt him more!" His grip on his weapon increased. "I should know because I did the same thing you are trying to do many years ago and that event still haunts me to this very day!" Fiona's crimson eyes widened as she started to lower her weapon. "So, you need to make a choice. You could run in that room and will most probably never be able to see Cyrus ever again!" He presented one choice to her, watching her flinch at his blunt statement. "Or you could listen to me and hopefully meet him again…"

In that moment, Fiona's anger and her rage had dissipated completely, leaving her feeling a sense of shame for what she had said and done. He was right. Spectre-42 was absolutely right. She was about to charge into a situation blindly without even considering any of the consequences that would result from her actions. She admitted that she hated not knowing things, hated not understanding anything about a situation but what she despised more was not being able to help anyone. Being completely helpless in a situation and having to be a useless bystander to the transpiring events; this feeling was increased when Cyrus was the one she could not help. That was something the whole she knew. Something the team knew.

Fiona holstered her weapon and lowered her head, the lights of her eyes dimming as she closed her eyelids; the Titan sighed as she turned her back to Spectre and leaned against the wall. "What is Eris doing in there?" She asked quietly.

Spectre holstered his weapon. "She cannot cleanse Cyrus but she can condense and harness what is corrupting him." He explained. "That is the only thing that can be done for him at this time. So, I have orders from Alex to send you and Red on a mission with two other Guardians to search for an old friend of ours." Fiona was about to argue but he cut her off. "This mission is of the utmost importance so don't argue."

Red-16 narrowed his optics. "Who will we be searching for?" He asked as he leaned against the wall and pulled his hood up.

Spectre-42 gave his signature grin and chuckled slightly as he leaned on the emergency rooms door. "I think you know who I'm talking about, Red." He remarked. Red smirked while Fiona narrowed her eyes in confusion.

"Who is it?" Fiona asked impatiently.

"Warden-217…"

-Scene Change—

"Seriously?!" the Nightstalker exclaimed as the Cryptarch handed her back her prize. Her hands clenched on the weapon in frustration as she looked it over and realised that it was not only an inferior weapon but it was also an exact replica of the weapon she had dismantled not but an hour ago. "Why is it you guys never give up the good stuff?!"

Aiden sighed as he watched the frustrated Hunter complain and rant to the Cryptarch as he strained to politely decline her vocal abuse. The Sunbreaker had been rather frustrated with recent events as he had once again been paired with this annoying woman and be forced to suffer the fate of her constantly running mouth. What made matters worse was that he had been forced to work with two more unknown Guardians, only one of which he had met before and he wished every day since then that he could never see that annoying Exo ever again.

Suddenly he was surrounded by three Ghosts, the little lights watching their Guardian with curiosity. "What's the problem, Aiden?" The little light called Cig asked as he approached the Titan's armoured face. The Sunbreaker gave a frustrated sigh and turned to see Natasha trying to reach over the Cryptarch's shelf and self-procure a newer and more advanced weapon; the words ' _ **You are holding out on me!**_ ' being screamed across the Tower courtyard.

A crimson Ghost giggled as she hovered next to her brother and sister Ghosts. "I think Aiden is thinking about Natasha again!" Ruby sang tauntingly as she did a little spin around her owner, both Cig and Jess laughing as their owner growled at them aggressively. "Don't give me that animalistic growl! How are you going be charming and charismatic to the ladies if you sound like an uncouth beast?" Cig and Jess both burst into full-blown laughter as they grew more and more amused at their owner's expense.

As much as Aiden was appearing to be in a very aggressive and tense stance, his concealed green eyes were actually lit with amusment. Such simple pleasures were not very common most days. Well, not for Aiden anyway. His nights were filled with anguish and frustration so why should the day be treated any different?

After the death of his siblings their orphaned Ghosts have been a comfort to the Titan. Aiden had been able to sleep slightly more soundly at night. By slightly more soundly the Titan meant it as at least three hours of sleep every other night. He never was much of a sleeper but the constant fear of nightmares and unwanted memories consistently tried to corrupt his mind and tear apart his self-esteem. God, he hoped he would not become an insomniac or in the very least not more of one.

His attention was brought back to reality when he and his three Ghosts all turned to see Natasha walking towards them with slumped shoulders and a defeated expression plastered on her face. "Swindlers…" She muttered as she straightened out her messy black hair. "So, have you seen those guys we are supposed to work with?"

Aiden shook his head as he looked around the courtyard and find their temporary allies. One of them he would not recognise so it was futile to look for her. The other however could make a scene while standing quietly at the back of a room and that was who Aiden was afraid of. When he first met the Hunter he had originally respected him. However, that soon changed after he gave him a new _royal_ title. If he ever heard that title again Aiden knew he could not be held responsible for what he would do to the Exo. Aiden hoped that the Exo would have forgotten it by now.

"Ah, my Champion is here!"

The Exo strolled over to the large human and patted him on the shoulder, his mischievous optics glowing with a dangerous flare. "How has it been, my greatest of Champions?" He asked rhetorically, tapping the Thunderlord's stock with the intent of annoying him. "Have you slain any more beasts and brought me proof of their admittance to the pits of hell for me to hang in my quarters?"

Aiden growled viciously as he was seriously restraining himself from reaching for his weapon. His attempts at restraint were slowly withering away as his hand started to raise and reach for his Exotic weapon. The Exo seemed to get the message. "And we are going to take a left!" He declared as he pointed with both his hands and turned himself to the left.

He slyly moved closer to the female Hunter and smirked. "Ah, the ever illustrious Natasha." He declared enigmatically to the beautiful human, taking her hand in his and grace it with an Exo's version of a kiss. "Have you thought about the offer I made you?"

Natasha smirked as she yanked her hand away from him. "Yeah. The answer is still no." She replied as she placed a hand on her hips, her ever famous smirk appearing on her face.

Red's metallic jaw dropped and his shoulders slumped. "And why not?" The New Monarchy representative whined, his tone sounding like that of a spoilt child. "You are perfect for the title!"

"No."

"Come on! I don't ask for much!" His whining continued, the Awoken behind him placing her palm to her face.

"Nope."

"Is it because I'm an Exo?" She blinked in surprise at his question; that certainly wasn't something she expected from the usually careless and ignorant Exo. She needed an exit from the situation and fast. "I am just as good as any man!"

Natasha laughed at him. "I'm sure you are, King." She patted his shoulder and kissed his metal cheek, using her other arm to smack his arm rather roughly. "But I am not going to be your Queen, no matter how many times you ask."

"Oh, really? Why?"

"Uh… I-I… Umm…" She stuttered as she tried to think of a quick escape. She took a quick glance at Aiden and locked her arm around his, the Titan looking at her with shock and his Ghosts laughing hysterically. "I am already hitched to good ol' Aiden!"

The Hunter's optics flashed slightly to indicate a synthetic blink. The three Guardians all watched him carefully, their concern heightened until he started to laugh. "Red?" Fiona asked as she backed up a few steps.

"Ha, ha ha ha!" He cackled insanely, holding his metallic sides as if he were holding his stomach; the group still found it odd how he had so many human mannerisms. "This is perfect!"

Aiden raised a brow, finding this to be the appropriate time to enter the conversation. "How is this perfect?" He asked rather bluntly while attempting to remove the foul woman's grip.

"It is perfect because this event has already been foretold by the ancient stories of Earth!" His exclamation caught the attention of the nearby Cryptarch as he worked; the historian within his soul demanding him to pay attention to the beige coloured Exo.

"Which stories are you talking about?"

The Exo glanced towards the Cryptarch, smirking as he pointed towards the supposed _couple_ as if they punctuated the point he was trying to make. "Ah, my good Sir! I am referring to the olden times of the United Kingdom and its brilliant King!" He explained as if he were telling the tale to a bunch of witless children. "This King was a man of greatness whom was fair to all of his subjects, ruling them with a kind heart and an honest nature. He would fend off any attackers with his infamous weapon, tearing the lands asunder beneath every step and cleansing the earth of any evildoers who dare to taint it with their presence." His figure hunched, his eyes becoming dimmer as he continued his piece sadness. "Sadly, even this great King had faced many a tragedy. His best friend, a knight by the name of Lancelot, had fallen in love with the King's fair Queen and she him. They left together, leaving the King to wallow in self-pity and discard his weapon to the watery depths from hence it came before his final end at the hand of a great foe!"

Fiona, usually uninterested by the blabbering Exo's rants, found herself intrigued by this ancient story. This story was one of the first interesting references he had made; it was even appropriate to the current situation, giving it more the reason to piqué her curiosity. "Who was this man, Red?"

"He went by the name of Arnold!"

The Cryptarch smacked his forehead at the Hunters stupidity. "His name was King Arthur, you complete ignoramus!" Red's confident posture faltered slightly. He turned and gave the Awoken an Exo's equivalent of a cold glare.

"I knew that!"

"Uh-huh…"

"Shut up!"

-Scene Change—

"Cyrus…"

The Warlock's eyes fluttered open and he placed his hand to his face, a headache igniting his mind like flames. "W-Who… Wh-What happened?" He mumbled incoherently. "Where am I?"

He felt a hand touch his shoulder. He glanced upwards to see the masked face of his friend Spectre. "It's good to see you are still among the land of the living, kid." He remarked with a smile, taking a seat beside the bed. "You have had it pretty rough."

As the Voidwalker tried to get a sense of his surroundings a small, pink blur darted across his vision. "Your awake!" Cyrus flinched as he felt his Ghost nudge him and smother herself against his cheek. He patted her carefully and smiled at her affectionate actions. "I missed you so much!" She exclaimed.

"I missed you to, Sera."

Sera's mood suddenly changed, her optic dimming slightly. "Do you remember what… you know, happened?"

"If you are talking about the events in the Temple, then yes. However, I also remember waking up in this room with Fiona and I-Agh!" He suddenly yelped as he felt a needle stab into his left arm, his eyes locking onto his abuser and glaring at her with much anger. "What was that for?!"

The Doctor blankly starred back. "It's a mild sedative to make sure you keep calm and relaxed. I will warn you ahead of time that I will be prescribing these to you for the next month."

Cyrus slumped. "Aw, crap…" He complained as he placed his face in his hands. He suddenly peeked through his fingers to look at Spectre. "Please don't tell Red I need a prescription… Or meds…"

Spectre held up his hand and gave a dismissive wave. "Scout's honour." The arm behind his back, however, had two crossed fingers; another human gesture he had picked up over the years.

Cyrus glanced through his rooms window, expecting to find Fiona standing guard like usual but felt slightly disappointed to only see the mumbling form of Eris; most probably talking to that crystal again.

"Where is Fiona?"

Spectre smirked. "Don't worry, kid. She is fine." He explained. "She and Red are on a mission right now but you can see her when she gets back, kay?" He noticed the depressed shadow in Cyrus' eyes. "Anyway, Eris brought this new weapon for you." He held out the oddly shaped weapon to Cyrus, letting him take a hold of it and examine the _Husk_ for himself. "She was able to alter it for your use, so knock yourself out!"

Cyrus nodded appreciatively to Spectre and glanced thankfully towards the huddled and unwitting form of Eris, smiling at the odd kindness she always showed him. She may not have been the most approachable person or be someone open about their attachments to others but he was happy to know that she would do such an action for him. It showed that she was more than just her vendetta and was actually her own person.

He grazed his hand over the weapon and felt something prickling his ear. He stroked it carefully again, the voice more distinctive. He tried the same gesture once more to test his theory and, sure enough, that same voice reverberated in his ear.

 _ **I hunger for their Darkness…**_

"What the…"

 _ **My new Ally…**_

"What's wrong, Cy?" Spectre asked curiously. Cyrus continued to look at the weapon.

 _ **I serve you…**_

"Its… It's nothing, Spectre…"

 _ **You are my new Master…**_

"Nothing to concern yourself with…"

 _ **Cyrus Kitori…**_

-Scene Change—

Atheon was one of the mightiest minds in the entirety of the Vex collective. Its build in the physical world being almost monolithic in stature and able to tower above even the more monstrous of the Hive's Ogres. The ground would tremble with every step. The rifts of time—of which he guarded—would rupture at his mere presence. His metallic frame would glint and shine under any light or even in any darkness. Whether he would appear in the brightest of regions or in the darkest of caverns his metallic shell would always find a way to shine. It was perfect. Too perfect for such a monstrosity of the Vex.

Whenever it would awaken the Vex's mind would ripple through the collective of the Vex network like that of a colossal wave through and ocean; overwhelming and able to overpower all others. While the smaller minds and voices in the collective—such as Goblins and Harpies—were still necessary to power such a large consensus. However, they would be nothing but gibberish and lost whispers in the harsh winds of time without Atheon's influence.

His large body stood tall above the forms of the six Guardians below and stood perfectly still, the abomination consuming them all in its shadow. Its arm cannon raised and targeted the enemies before it. All but one Guardian raised their weapons at the large machine and were prepared to fire until their leader held up his hand, indicating a cease fire. They all muttered between each other and whispered words of confusion about their leader's questionable order. The muttering stopped as the large body crumpled and toppled backwards, slamming into the ground with a very loud thud.

A small red Ghost appeared over the body and scanned the remains. "Nothing." He stated grimly as he turned to his owner and the others. "Atheon—Time's Conflux—has finally been put into permanent shut down and its core expunged."

"That is good to hear, Sparks." His owner Renton kneeled before the red Ghost and held out his hand towards him. "I am glad that this is finally over…"

"You do not sound it, Ren." The little Spark observed as he hovered closer to his owner, the flaps of his eyes declining slightly. "I though you would finally be happier now that this is over."

Ren closed his eyes as he looked away from the Vex's remains. "The word _Victory_ feels shallow when the death toll has been so high, Sparks…" He slowly fell into a sitting position, gazing out towards the large, crystallised structure with dead eyes. "When the Vex have attained victory they do not celebrate and we should do the same…"

The Ghost metal plates declined at his owner's words, the little light feeling saddened at the depressed form that used to be Renton Diomedes. The sentence being emphasised for its past tense. The Ren that Sparks had once known was a kind and highly optimistic individual who always looked at the brighter side of any situation. He was the one to make a joke about a lack of ammo in the middle of a strike. The one to shout at the top of his lungs and alert the enemy of their position whenever he was told to use stealth. That was who he used to be. That was what this shallow, shell of a man used to be.

The mound of flesh that sat before Sparks was not Renton but a shadow of human he used to be. This man was not the joyful Guardian the Tower community once knew. This man was as cold and calculating as the very metal monstrosities that had murdered one of his previous teammates and sent the other hurtling through the unforgiving rifts of time to never be seen again. Events of such tragedy had the tendency to change the emotional stability of any individual.

Renton Diomedes was a perfect example of what the horrors of this universe could do to the mind…

Renton glanced up as he noticed a gunmetal grey Ghost hover before him and rudely nudge him out of his self-induced trance. "What is the problem, Swoop?" He asked.

"Warden thinks that we should get moving soon." The Guardian glanced towards the owner of this rude Ghost, watching the Exo kneel down towards a small item hanging on a nearby crystal. "Unless you think it would be a good idea to remain and let the Tower discover that we came here without their permission." The Ghost's metallic panels inclined downwards to simulate a glare. "Or would you prefer to sit here and wallow in grief over those rotting corpses you called teammates?"

Renton, feeling enraged at the comment, aggressively reached out to grab at the rude Ghost but felt his wrist be held back by an iron gauntlet. He glanced up to see Warden-217, the last member of Fireteam Spirit, glaring at him with a rage that even an Ogre would be envious of.

"Don't you dare…" He muttered as he let go of his wrist and gestured for his host to return to him.

Renton glared at Warden but did not voice his protests. Arguing with Warden-217 was like arguing with one of the cities walls; ridiculous and fruitless. He glanced at the helmet that Warden seemed to be clinging to.

"What is that?" He asked, worry in his tone. The helmet was rather intriguing to eye as it seemed to be designed in a Vex motif. The bronze colour that had a beautifully alluring sheen to it but also a showed the history hidden behind it. A single starring eye was lodged in the centre of the helmet, glowing blankly at the Guardian and flickering occasionally. Renton shivered as he realised that this eye had once belonged to a Vex. "Why would you carry such a thing as that?"

Warden glanced at the helmet and then back to him. "…It intrigues me."

Renton stood. "That's it?!" He barked, pointing an accusatory finger at the Exo before him. "That helmet is an abomination! You don't even know if having that sort of design may cause side-effects to the wearer!"

Warden's swooped between them and hovered before Renton's face. "We do not have to worry about that, Ren." He explained in a rather sinister tone, his red optic flickering slightly. "We will not be the ones to wear it." The Ghost chuckled darkly, a small spark emitting from his frame as his body periodically moved.

"You can't possibly think to get someone else to wear it!"

The Ghost sparked again, a sinister chuckle reflecting in his metallic tone. "What else would we do with it, hmm? Wear it ourselves? I don't think so, young fool!" He cackled and span in the air, his metallic body twitching as he sparked once more. "We have always found an… _interest_ in the darker artefacts that the enemy so graciously provides and we find it fitting to test many of these items on other Guardians to see how they work."

Renton's eyes widened in horror. "You monsters!" He backed away, his Ghost hiding behind his owner like a frightened child. "I knew that you two were unstable, that the two of you being hurtled through time would wear out your logic circuits!" He accused as he backed away more-so. "The Speaker and the Vanguard will hear about this! And the others will to!"

The Ghost twitched once more. "You had better leave like everyone else, Renton, before we make you the first Guinea pig!" His laughter echoed throughout the large cavern that was once Atheon's dwelling but had now become his grave.

The Ghost cackled as he and his owner watched the frightful Guardian and his Ghost transmat to orbit. "Right, now that the riff-raff is out of the way, who will our first test subject be?"

Warden looked towards the helmet, as if he were in a deep contemplation. He nodded to himself and glared towards the large, singular optic of the helmet that was once owned by an ancient Guardian known only as Preadyth.

"Fiona…"


	4. Chapter IV: The Devil you know

Hey, guys! It's Fallen Paragon and I am back again to continue my story of our favourite rapscallions and their journey as they traverse the darker sectors of this wonderful universe. The journey so far has taken a turn for the worse as corruption seeps into our team in the form of a malfunctioning Exo and his psychopathic Ghost.

Anyway, I want to say thank you for all of you who have followed, favoured and reviewed my work. You guys and girls are absolutely amazing and I love each and every one of you for giving this aspiring writer a reason to continue.

 _ **Now this next bit is very important: I have posted another little document—separate from this story—that will include all the armour sets, weapons and bios of every character who has appeared in my stories. (Any characters who belong to other authors will be named and referred to.) This is strictly so you will be able to identify these characters and have an idea of who they are and what they look like. And I beg you not to send me anymore! I love them all but I have about ten to twenty of them now! I am drowning in great characters! Please, until I say so, I beg you to stop!**_

Shout-outs: I wish to give a shout-out to The Sacred Panda, Reilly.216, The Wolf Keeper, Phantomslayer230, Killiani and FusRoDerp and many others for donating their characters to my cause! You guys are just awesome!

Disclaimer: As you know, I do not own this franchise. I only own some of the OCs and others go to their respective owners.

So, let's get started…

Chapter IV: The Devil You Know…

 _Hope was something very thinning while locked in a cell. It was a concept that would be clung too while being isolated from the world. It was the one thing that every single sentient creature would hold in the direst of situations. Such things were what guided even the most damned of Guardians through the darkest depths the Darkness could through at them. Guardians like Eris Morn and Warden-217 had been through events similar to this and they had never truly recovered; even with hope to hold onto they had lost what sanity they had._

 _However, while locked in the cells of the tower, hope certainly was thinning but not lost. The effect on the mind—however—was amplified when it was the young and troubled mind of Gabriel Locker. He was the newest member of, the famous Hunter, Eddie's Fireteam and had been through much hardship during his short career as a Guardian. He had been hospitalised, threatened, broken and even been unlucky enough to see the darkest of creatures in the Hive's arsenal: Crota._

 _Gabriel was laying on his complimentary bunk with his arms as a makeshift cushion as he contemplated his actions in the Hives pits that had condemned him to his new dwelling. His Ghost was gone. His friends had disowned him and were avoiding him, not even bothering to visit him. It was like when he was in the hospital after being impaled by that damned Thrall. They hadn't visited him then so why would they now? He knew that they were good people and that they cared for him but he also knew that what he did was not something that could be forgiven with a simple sorry, it would take time to heal. Time was not a word he was fond of as he had lost to much of it already. Still, it would have been nice for someone to visit him._

 _As if an answer to his plea for company, his sharp ears picked up the sound of soft footsteps. That clarified that this person was not the guard as he had very heavy footsteps, like any Titan should, but this person had a very soft step to their stride. However, his steps were very reclusive and oozed with nervousness and fear. He recognised the steps but he could not identify the person. Placing faces to steps was never easy if it was someone he had only met once or twice but at least he knew this person was not a threat. Well, he hoped they were not a threat._

 _His head turned as the footsteps came to a halt outside his cell and the figure stood before the door. The person hesitated briefly, as if they had been contemplating their next actions. The handle turned and the door carefully unlocked; the solemn figure of a familiar Voidwalker move to the corner of the room. However, he looked different. The most obvious being that his armour had changed from the last time he saw him._

 _Gabe sat up and his eyes had widened at the sight of the unmasked member of Fireteam Spirit, finding it odd to see him without a helmet. The thought of him without one almost seemed implausible, bordering impossible. However, Gabe was more saddened at seeing his face rather than finding it a surprise. Anyone with any sense could see the damage done to him, the things he had most probably seen. There were no scars. No actual damage. The history of what had happened was bored into his eyes. The coldness in them. The lack of any empathy. It reflected how lifeless he had become._

 _His skin was as pale as snow, far too pale for a healthy human being and Gabe was almost ninety-eight percent sure that it was from a lack of solar-ray exposure and almost zero melatonin. His hair had a fair length to it and appeared to be very messy but the bangs were strategically combed to cover his left eye. Thin lips that suited his face. Finally, the eyes. Had they not the dark history within them, they could be considered brilliant, bordering beautiful, but Gabe knew not too think about it. Cyrus looked almost exactly how he pictured him to be and yet, at the same time, he looked nothing like his expectation._

 _He was silent for a moment as if contemplating his next words carefully. "H-Hello, Gabriel…" He muttered as he avoided the Hunter's gaze, his distant eyes locking towards the ground. "It… It has been a while since we last spoke…"_

 _Gabe frowned at his grim tone. He didn't know exactly what it was but he was starting to feel that he didn't recognise this person anymore. Sure, Cyrus was shy and reclusive but, whoever this person was, he felt off. He certainly did appear to be the Warlock he had met while exploring the ancient ruins of old America with Fireteam Spirit but he felt different. Like he was not himself. Like he was trying to hide something. He pushed the thoughts aside for the moment. This was not the time to complain about the only other guest that wasn't Spirit._

" _Yeah, it has been a while hasn't it…" Gabe replied with a small but forced smile, trying to keep the mood at a neutral level. The last thing he needed was any kind of dispute so he just tried to enjoy the company of the Warlock. "How has the team been?"_

 _Smalltalk. That was the best he could muster at this point. He and Cyrus had never been in extended conversation before, nor were either of them good at it but that does not mean that they would not try. "G-Good… They are all fine…" He reassured the Hunter, finally finding the courage to actually look him in the eyes, as he let out a small smile. A smile, the Hunter noted to himself, that certainly is rare. "Red has been asking after you… He has been waiting to present you with your title…"_

 _Gabe frowned, his brow knotting in confusion. "Title?" He asked worriedly._

 _Cyrus nodded to confirm his suspicions and, most likely, his fears. "Don't wor-worry about it, Gabe." The Warlock tried to reassure the Hunter but felt that it came to no avail as he noticed the worried look plastered on his face. Relative suffering may help the situation. "You're not the o-only one he has given a title, you know." He reminded him. "I am one of his Royal Knights…"_

" _Knights?"_

" _Yeah… I don't know why either…" He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, his eyes following the shape of the cell as to try and find a distraction. "Anyway, I, um, wanted to ask about, um, why you were in here…" He explained as he looked towards a nearby wall and examined the cracks and dents as to further immerse himself in the visual distraction and avoid any eye contact. "You do-don-don't have to tell me if-if you don't wa-want to, of course!"_

 _Gabe sighed as he watched his nervous visitor squirm slightly. Yeah, this was Cyrus. A nervous wreck who couldn't stand still for five minutes without fidgeting; Gabe knew this version of the Warlock all too well. "No, it… It's okay. I guess everyone will find out about it soon enough." He conceded as he hanged his legs over the edges of his bed, his hands clutched together as he slightly tensed. "It started with a mission on the moon."_

 _Cyrus flinched at the mention of that accursed rock, an action that the ever observational Hunter picked up on. "Bad memories?" Gabriel asked with concern veiling a small amount of fear. He had heard of what happened when Cyrus had gone berserk and it was not something he wanted to witness first hand; definitely not in an incredibly confined space._

 _The FWC representative nodded silently in response to his inquiry. "Ye-Ye-Yes but please… Continue…" He requested in the form of a whisper._

 _Gabe nodded. "Yeah, well, during our mission we encountered a small group of Fallen, from the house of Exile, who were being overwhelmed by the massing hoards of the Hive's forces and our orders were to ignore them and move on but I…" Gabe halted himself as he thought of a way to continue his train of thoughts._

" _You tried to save them…" Gabe looked up and saw the Hive Bane smirk slightly as his eyes took on a sympathetic gaze. "You see them as victims to." His crisp voice stated with a tone of slight empathy. "I understand, Gabriel, I have saved a few of them from the Hive and Vex once or twice on my patrols. You're not alone in this…"_

 _Gabe gave the Warlock a small smile at his statement but felt it vanish as he remembered the incident. "Yeah… But what I had tried to protect them from was not a creature anyone would want to encounter…" He reflected negatively as he looked down in sadness. "I endangered my team to save the enemy… That is why I am here, Cyrus…"_

 _Cyrus contemplated the thoughts for a while and thought on what the creature could have been for him to have endangered his entire team. An Ogre? No, Avora and Eddie could easily handle that alone. Theresa would just be overkill. A Prince of the Hive Knights? Possible. Some of those monsters are nearly invulnerable to most attacks. He felt something send a sharp jolt into his mind, a whisper of black silk dominating his thoughts._

 _ **He saw him…**_

" _What… Who did he see?" Cyrus mumbled to himself as he gazed towards the floor, confusing and worrying Gabe immensely._

" _Cyrus?" Gabe asked cautiously as he leaned further away from the mumbling Warlock. "What's wrong?"_

 _ **He has seen Crota…**_

" _N-Nothing, Gabriel…" He answered hastily as if he was in a hurry to hide something or, more likely, silence him. "It's non-none of your concern…"_

 _ **Tell him you know…**_

" _No…" Cyrus objected as he clutched his head in agony, the distorted voice tearing at his psyche and sending jolts of pain through his nerves and igniting them like they were doused in raw phosphor. "I won't tell him!"_

 _ **Tell him of the monster he laid his eyes on!**_

 _Gabriel leapt from his bunk and ran to Cyrus' side, his hands on his shoulders. "Cyrus!" He called, trying to return him to reality. "What's wrong!? What's happening!?" His pleas remained unanswered and he continued to watch hopelessly as the Voidwalker roared in agony, his attempts to restrain him becoming futile as the Warlock thrashed. "What won't you tell me!?"_

 _ **TELL HIM HOW CROTA RUINED YOUR LIFE!**_

 _The Warlock's eyes flared and burned, igniting like floodlights and temporarily blinding Gabriel from looking at him directly. "CROTA DESTROYED EVERYTHING!" His fists clenched as he instinctively lashed out at the Hunter, slamming his fist into his gut and winding him. "HE RUINED MY LIFE!" He declared aggressively; Gabe was becoming frightened as he started to not recognise the broken figure before him. "HE MADE ME WHAT I AM!"_

 _ **TELL HIM HOW YOU FAILED TO SAVE THEM!**_

 _Thrown from his placement in front of Cyrus, Gabriel became dazed as he slammed into the concrete wall. Shaking his head as to regain his vision, the Hunter watched the Warlock with fear as he saw the body of his friend thrash and scream and felt to terrified to act. This person that stood before him was not Cyrus. He was not the friend he had made during their short trip to the ruins of old America. This person was angry. Twisted. Out of all control. Cyrus was renowned for being broken but not this. Not psychotic._

 _ **TELL HIM HOW YOU LET YOUR TEAM DIE!**_

 _As he screamed, one of his free hands reached down into a small pocket and fumbled for an unknown item. The item slipped past his hand and clinked against the ground, the contents of the small glass object swirling uncontrollably. Gabe took notice of the item and grabbed it before it could be trod upon in the scuffle. Looking it over he identified it as a syringe, possibly containing a type of stim or depressant, the latter being more likely under Cyrus' circumstances. Putting all the pieces together, Gabriel figured out what Cyrus was trying to tell him. What he wanted him to do._

 _Holding the syringe in the same fashion as he would his trusty combat knife, Gabriel lunged towards the Warlock and wrestled him to the ground, using what strength he had to restrain him. Looking him in his glowing eyes, Gabriel felt a wave of guilt at what he was about to do and sadness at having to see his friend in such a state. He had so little friends in this new world and he didn't want to see any of them be lost so soon._

 _Stabbing the syringe into Cyrus' arm, Gabe flinched as he saw heard the Warlock scream in agony at the sudden intrusion into his flesh. His aggressive thrashing began to subside and his body started relenting to the medicinal fluid that ran through his veins. He started to slowly collapse into unconsciousness, Gabriel sighing in relief as he felt the danger subside and his friend free of whatever tormented his mind._

 _Before Gabe could go call for the Guard, he felt Cyrus' hand latch onto his arm and halt him from moving any further. Looking into his eyes, noticing that the eerie glow had disappeared, Gabe saw the fear reflecting in his gaze. Somehow Gabe knew what he was asking, what he was begging him to do. He could see it in the fear his eyes bore. The Demons that lurked in him were something that both he and Cyrus could relate to. Metaphorically, anyway._

" _Don't worry, Cyrus…" He comforted as he felt the Voidwalker's grip relent and watched as he slipped into unconsciousness. "I won't tell anyone…"_

Cyrus flinched as he remembered the events that had transpired but a few days ago. To let himself lose control like that again was pathetic. Weak. He hated himself for it but what could he do about it? What could he have done to stop himself?

He reasoned with himself that he could do nothing to stop himself but that alone made him worry, made him frightened. What would he have done if Gabriel was not there to stop him? Would he have… killed someone? He didn't want to think about it. Still, he was glad he still had Gabriel as a friend, as someone outside of his team that he could trust. It was rare these days to find someone that truly understood him. Sadly, Gabriel had been recently hospitalised as of late and Cyrus had been unable to visit him because of the vigilant protector that watched over him.

Fallen forces in the tower? Cyrus would have laughed if he hadn't seen it with his own eyes…

"Cyrus!" A female voice called, grabbing his attention and breaking his train of thought. He tilted his head slightly as to see the person whom had interrupted his contemplation, Cyrus was graced with the sight of one of the team's newest ally. She was a fairly recent addition to the Guardian community but, like Cyrus, she had also been plagued with the burdens of loss and grief. "Alex wants you front and centre!"

Standing from his crouched position in the small rock-formation formed by one of the moons many craters, Cyrus turned to his caller and nodded in acknowledgement to her. Walking carefully over the barren lands of Earth's Moon and being sure to not attract any hostile Xeno attention, Cyrus followed as the young Awoken Stormcaller lead him to where his trusted leader was waiting. Not that he was entirely focused on their current mission in the slightest. His intricate mind was instead racing uncontrollably at the reasons for his complete mental breakdown.

He had considered many options and possibilities in his contemplations and he was still unsure of what had made him snap so suddenly. At the mere mention of that dreaded Hive God he had started to hear something. A voice. No, multiple voices all comprised into one voice. It spoke to him directly, knew everything about him. His past was no secret to this omnipotent invader. His fears were completely bare to the unknown mental intruder and that scared him.

No one should know of his fears or his past. It was a weakness. One he could not allow for anyone else to know. Gabriel knew but that was acceptable to the Voidwalker. He was trustworthy enough but he could not let Fiona know. She couldn't know! If she discovered the truth behind his breakdowns she would never speak to him again or worse she would think he was a monster. He couldn't allow that. He could not allow anyone else to tell her about his past.

 _Wait a moment…_ He thought to himself, his eyes narrowing in concentration as he thought about the self-proclaimed monarch who had been spending a lot of time around her recently, his hands clenching violently in frustration. _Red has been spending so much time with her recently and he knows about what happened to me…_ His lips started curling into that of a snarl, a rumbling in his throat nearly descending into that of an animalistic growl. _If he tells her I am ruined… But he wouldn't… He's my friend…_

 _ **But what if he does?**_

 _What if he does tell her?_ He thought in a panic, his mind unravelling into a cataclysm of anxiety and frustration. _He could ruin everything! He could end my chanc-Ugh! My friendship with her! What do I do!?_

 _ **He is too much of a risk…**_

 _A… A risk?_

 _ **Yes… You must remove him…**_

Nodding to himself as he contemplated the thoughts, Cyrus allowed the voices black silk to slither its way into his mind. _Y-Ye-Yes… Remove him… Remove the snake in the flock…_

His aggressive thoughts were broken once again as he bumped into the outstretched arm of his fellow Warlock, his aggression vanishing and instead being replaced by anxiety once again. "Hey, are you alright?" She was staring directly into his visor with a stern look that hid her concern; he could tell. The way she held her head and her stance was tense but dominant. She would not let him slip by her and was not willing to accept anything but a clear answer to her inquiry; he could not blame her for being so upfront. Ever since the loss of her partner she has never truly been the same as before.

He nodded hesitantly. "Yes, Ma-Ma-Mam…" He muttered as he tried to pass her by but felt her restrain him.

"Don't you be lying to me, Cyrus." She felt a wave of guilt shower her as the timid Voidwalker flinched in response to her sudden aggressive tone. "Look, I don't want to sound like I am pushing you around but… Alex… Alex wants to know if you are alright…" She explained wholeheartedly as she took a quick glance at the Poster-Guardian. "He has been really good to all of us… He was there when I lost Keith… He has been there for all of us…" She placed a comforting hand on Cyrus' shoulder, making him relax slightly. "And if he is concerned about you, then so am I… So, if something is wrong, you need to tell us…"

"N-No…" His visor veered towards the dusty earth beneath them, avoiding her visors' gaze completely. Her brow furrowed slightly in frustration. "Noth-Nothing is wrong, Evalyne…"

Relenting from her inquiry, Evalyne backed away and continued her walk. "Fine… Just hurry up already…" She huffed. "Alex and Sebastian are waiting."

Letting her continue onward, Cyrus stared to enter another trance. "Alexander…" He muttered.

 _Is… Is he a risk to?_

-Scene Change-

"I don't need your help, Spectre…" Nyx declared as he glared down his Snipers sights, the target he had been waiting for had not found the time to graced his optical vison as of yet. He glanced to his side to see his fellow Exo kneel beside him and aim down the sight of his Scout Rifle. "I can do this alone…"

The Exo beside him scowled at his compatriot's attitude towards his presence. "Yes, I know you can, Nyx…" His finger twitched, unleashing a bullet from his weapon and hurtling it towards the cranium of the unwitting Fallen below them. The body fell, the others fleeing at the sight of their fallen comrade. Spectre almost chuckled at the pun. For the Fallen to fall so far, such sweet irony. "But the Cul… The Vanguard is still concerned with your behaviour as of late and they want someone to watch you on your patrols for a while."

The tainted Exo groaned slightly at the simulated Scottish accent of his fellow Exo, finding his obvious deception to be insulting. He hadn't had a vision for the past few days anyway. "Don't bullshit me, Spectre-42." He snapped as he pulled the trigger of his weapon and sent a round hurtling towards his target. "The Tower is not your concern, the Cult is! It always is!"

Spectre scoffed at his comment, reloading his rifle with the speed of a true marksman, his metallic jaw forming an Exo's equivalent of a sneer. "Alright, you got me! I care about the Cult more than the Tower." He retorted aggressively. "What does it matter who I have more loyalty to, Nyx?" He took a step towards the cliffs edge, the golden sand sifting through the creases of his boots, leaning down to gage the depth of the fall. "We need to start moving if we are going to catch their trail…"

Nyx glanced at the Cult Exo suspiciously. "What do the Vanguard want us hunting this time?" Kneeling down to watch the erratically confused Xenos flee from their original foothold, Nyx was going through his databanks as to file through all the fleeing patterns his prey would follow and planning many eventualities. It always helped any Hunter to be prepared.

"Guardians."

"What?" Nyx jumped slightly at his rather blunt response. Not that he should have expected any different from the _Cult_ Exo. In the tower community he was famously known for his blunt demeanour in conversation, his highly unapproachable attitude to anyone that he was unfamiliar with; many would assume that he had never heard of the word _tact_.

"We are hunting Guardians, Nyx." He explained slowly, his patronising tone sounding similar to that of a teacher talking to a slow child; it was a tone that Nyx did not appreciate. "Do you have a problem with that?"

The outer edges of Nyx's optics dimmed as to simulate the dilation of his optics, his concern for the Exo's psyche heightening. "This is about Dael, isn't it?" He asked while turning his attention completely towards Spectre, his attention to his target saved and rerouted into a new sequence of subroutines. They were secondary now. "You know it wasn't your fault…"

" _ **What the fuck does that matter!?**_ " The Exo snapped as he stood toe-to-toe with Nyx, his grip on his own rifle increasing, the situation tensing to near boiling point. " _ **Identifiable or unidentifiable, they are targets to be eliminated! Nothing more and nothing less!**_ " He stamped an armoured boot against the dusty lands of New Russia, the action seemingly appearing to be an act of dominance and assertion. " _ **Our target being related to my past is mere coincidence!**_ "

Taken aback by his sudden rage, Nyx felt his grip on reality slip slightly as he fell into another one of his trances. His vision becoming consumed in pure darkness, the lands around him dissipating from any visual reality and leaving his senses blind. His usually steady grip on reality was failing and collapsing before him like it had done many times before. Another vision. He hated the visions.

" _You don't understand what we are doing here, Spectre!? None of you do! Alex! Fiona! None of you!"_

A voice? They were talking to Spectre? This was new. Nyx knew that some of his visions had been rather prophetic in the past, some of them even predicting events with explicit detail, but this was new. Neither the voice, nor the receiver were of the Darkness. That was unique.

" _We just want to save him! He needs us to redeem him before that Stranger starts to corrupt him with her selfish vendetta like Eris did!"_

That voice! He knew that voice! For the many years he has been active, Nyx has met many a number of Guardians before and after his capture by that damnable Wizard. He has heard many voices and seen many faces in his time but out of all of them that one was the most distinctive.

" _Female. Exo. Simulated French accent."_ Nyx contemplated as he evaluated the voice, searching his data banks for someone who matched this description. Sadly, he knew it was futile. He could run as many subroutines as he wanted but knew that, since his capture and torture, his memory files had been irreparably damaged. _"Who could it be?"_

 _Beep…_

That sound… His systems were rebooting. His visions had come to an end, like they had so many times before. Usually that sound would give him the feeling of unbridled rapture but this time he wanted to remain in this state longer, to hear everything he could from this vision. Sadly, that was not to be so. Typical.

He awoke in New Russia once more, his optics switching back to their original turquoise and losing all trace of their previous corruption. His systems completed their reboot and showed him the familiar landscape that he and Spectre had been scouting but… minutes… hours… days… He was unsure. However, he noticed one particular difference with his surroundings. One thing that he could not ignore, as much as he wished he could. A gun barrel. A very familiar gun barrel. Spectre's gun barrel, to be completely precise.

Startled by the sudden aggressive stance, Nyx prepared himself to counter the Scottish Exo before he could fire, many scenarios running through his mind to prepare for such an attack. However, it never came. Spectre lowered his weapon and turned his back on Nyx, his stride carrying him in the direction of his chosen destination.

"I think I should stay with you for a while, Nyx." He remarked, waving his servo dismissively as to deny any possible retorts. "At least until we have completed our task." He glanced over his shoulder and gave one of his rare smirks. "Try not to have another black-out along the way…"

Nyx's metallic throat released a sound similar to that of groaning gears as to represent an Exos equivalent to a growl, his optics narrowing as to simulate his rage. Oh, how he hated Spectre-42. He was a bully. He was a jerk. He was a monster. He has hunted humans since the earliest days of his activation and he was renowned for eliminating anyone in his way. Men… Women… Even children…

Oh, how he hated that malfunction of a machine… But he knew he needed to warn him of his visons. He needed to stick close to both Spectre and the rest of Fireteam Spirit so he could discover the reason behind his visions. He needed a reason as to why the Darkness would mention them. Why would the Darkness show him such a vision that included Guardians? It didn't make any sense.

Nyx could feel something was coming. Something was coming and Fireteam Spirit were right in the middle of it; Nyx made it his duty to find out what. He had to discover what this possible threat to the team was before it became something else…

A threat to an entire Fireteam was bad…

But what if it grew to be a threat to the tower?

If that was the case… Then Nyx was afraid… Afraid that all of his most terrifying visions… His most devastating nightmares… may in fact be more prophetic than he once wished to deny…


	5. Chapter V: Truth is a Lie

_**Important Note: On my profile there is a selection of quotes and titles that I recommend you read as they are all key references to the characters who star in these stories. Secondly, there is a selection of titles that I have been considering to start or continue. These are all located at the bottom of my profile and I hope you give them a read and PM me if you would like me to attempt any of them. With enough support, I will supply the demand. Finally, I would like to make the hefty request that someone come up with some Cover Art for the story… I think it deserves better than the one it has so… I won't be able to offer much more than a shout-out but, please, don't let that discern you from this task. Please, I only request that someone please help me make this story much more professional… If you want to take up this task, please PM me and we can discuss it!**_

 _ **Now… I would just like to give you all my reason for not posting sooner… A short while ago, I lost someone in my family who I was very close with and… for a while I lost my will to write but… I am back now and will try to commit as much as I can. Sorry for the wait…**_

Shout-outs: I wish to give one hell of a shout-out to The Sacred Panda, Reilly.216, The Wolf Keeper, Phantomslayer230, Killiani, FusRoDerp, Lawtair Furth, Zalfear, NotBibleCanon, BeltofOrion, emazingwaffle and all you other girls and guys for supporting me and my cause! I don't say it enough that you guys are just some of the best readers I could ask for!

Disclaimer: As you already know, I do not own this franchise. I only own some of the OCs and others go to their respective owners.

So, let's get started…

Chapter V: Truth is a Lie…

"You know this is all your fault…" He would accuse daily, usually until the concept of daily became a time consumed by silence. "Not that you care…" Such childish comments were so easily thrown around nowadays between the disorganised but the rogue did not care. It was how he passed the time out in the wilds of Earth, or any other dusty rock they came across. Not that the planets were that unique to begin with.

His compatriot sighed. "Be quiet, Dael!" She snapped, her optics narrowing as she synthetically glared down her rifles scope and honed towards the two figures in the distance. She leaned towards her ever bothersome companion and gave the slightest of nudges as to gain his attention and indicate towards the targets in her sights.

Her fellow rogue narrowed his eyes as he caught sight of the targets, one in particular giving his blood a reason to boil. "Shit!" He cursed quietly, slamming a clenched fist into the dirt. "How the fuck did he find us so fast!?" His teeth grinded together as the vicious and unforgiving memories of a time long past flooded his mind; his hatred for this figure flickering to life and blinding him from rational thoughts.

Out of all the rogue hunters that could have been sent to track them down it had to be _**him**_ , now didn't it? It had to be that God forsaken malfunction of a machine who could not let go of the past unless he would be careless enough to be _wiped_ during combat; even then he was as relentless as a Thrall looking for any form of sustenance. He was renowned for it, after all. Being tireless. Merciless. Unforgiving. Unable to even show the slightest empathy for anyone who stood in his way and always resort to violence to solve any conundrum that crossed his path.

He was known as the _Zealot_ for a reason. He was not only the most dedicated member of the _Future War Cult_ , excluding their head representative, but he was also a great believer in their motto: _Conflict leads to progression…_ Or did it lead to _War_? The rogue did not care anymore. He was no longer part of the Cult, nor an active member of the Tower community. He was the _Failure_. That was his title. That was his designation. That was his burden. It represented everything that he was. Everything he could no longer be. Everything he had relinquished for the sake of a vendetta.

His fellow rogue hushed him, her optics narrowing further. "Silence, Dael! We cannot give away our position!"

Dael grunted slightly. "For fuc-I don't care!" He raised a hand and indicated towards one of the two figures. "He is right in our fucking sights, Dagger! He wouldn't show us the same mercy, so why are we showing him any!?"

Synthetically sighing at the repugnant behaviour of her fellow outlaw, Dagger was almost begging for one of their many enemies to pick her off with their rifle and _wipe_ her association with Dael from her databanks. Sometimes, while her thoughts would veer towards being distant, she regretted this choice of life. Living the life of a witness to the truth. Living as an outcast from the world she once knew. Living a free life.

Ignoring his brash and undignified attitude, Dagger raised her free hand to her helmet. The last thing she wanted was to continue her conversation with someone who would aggravate her on an hourly basis. "Jane?" She called through her comm. "Where are you?"

In reply she received silence. Not that such a response was unexpected from a Guardian like Jane. She was certainly a unique one, that's for sure. Within the communities of the Tower, Jane was known as the _Forgotten_ and was seen to be one of the most unpredictably dangerous Guardians to be revived. She had a certain mental… disability-that has so far gone completely unexplained by any medical personnel-which causes her to repeatedly enter a state that has similar effects to that of a pre-Golden Age sickness known as dementia and wipe her memories of any people, person or event at random segments. If it was not for Dagger implanting the remnants an Exo's processor within her hippocampus she would not even remember herself or her friends. Sadly, that did nothing to stop the process but instead only save fragments of her memory that were the most important: her allies, her mission and her target.

Dagger wished she could do more for her fellow Hunter. "Jane?" Maybe she would answer Dagger's calls sooner if she had spent more time fixing the remnants of _Kronos-_ 32's processor into Jane's brain, let alone remember past only the most basic of protocols and objectives. "Come on, we don't have all day…"

"Why do you bother with that freak?" Dael commented with a snarl, watching his targets without the slightest ounce of hesitation.

Dagger glanced at him disappointedly. "What is that supposed to mean!?" She snapped, her metallic hands clenching tightly. "She is no different than you or me in the wilds. What disability she may have should not change that!"

Dael scoffed at her statement, finding the attitude that she possessed towards their fellow teammate to be in the highest order of ridiculousness. Her sentimentality was almost sickening to the Human. "Oh, for the love of God, stop being so sentimental!" He remarked, his sights locking onto one of the figures heads and fighting the almost unbearable urge to pull the trigger. "She's a freak! I am sorry, Dagger, but I find it hard to put faith in someone who can't even remember the name of her own Ghost!"

As much as she wished to argue with the Human, she knew that deep down in her processors-although she would hate to admit it-that she agreed with him. She hated not being able to help others and Jane was no exception, no matter how broken she was. It was an obsession that she had developed since she lost most of her previous team and went into hiding. Nevertheless, Jane was still a risk to their team. As helpful as the implant was, it was not enough to be a comfort.

Thankfully, her plea for a distraction was finally answered by a faint response from said _Forgotten_ Guardian. "Yes… Um… Uh... Dagger?" She questioned softly, hesitance and confusion etched into her tone. She always seemed so nervous when forced into conversation. "It is… It's Dagger… _14? 27? 48?_ " She sighed. "Which… Which one… is it?"

Dagger smiled, her metallic eyes declining to synthetically represent sympathy. "It's Dagger-57, Jane." She confirmed. "I need you to meet us at our current position. I will send our coordinates to you via Ghost."

"…Why?" She asked innocently, her soft voice sounding similar to that of a lost child. Too Dagger and Dael that was all she seemed to be, a child. She was not stupid, nor was she weak but what she could be considered to be was ignorant. She seemed ignorant to the world at times, like that of an animal experiencing a new species for the first time; similarly, Jane was known to react to unknown presences and people in two distinct ways: overly trustworthy or incomprehensively ferocious. "What… What was our mission again?"

"We have a lead on our objective but it appears to currently be on the move. It is our job to track and intercept but not engage." Dagger could feel Dael's judgemental eyes swiftly fixed upon her. "Get here soon, okay?"

"…Affirmative."

"Why are we still hunting this old teammate of yours, Dagger?" Dael sneered at the mention of their objective as the words rolled off his tongue, the mere thought of their mission felt like tasting venom.

"He is important to me, Dael, and I don't want him to be hurt any more than he already has been." She explained, holstering her rifle and pulling her mechanical knees to her chest; thoughts lashing and speeding through her mind as to seemingly antagonize her but she knew they spoke the truth. If only it were _that_ easy. If only it were that easy to take him away from those pretenders of the _light_ and keep him safe but that was how the universes laws worked; sadly, the highest of these laws we biological or mechanical organisms were bound to follow was to accept that _life was not fair_. "He needs to be rescued. Not indoctrinated."

Dael sighed as he also holstered his weapon and sat up with her, his gaze softening. "We… We haven't been able to save anyone before… Why do you think it will work now?"

"I know… we haven't exactly had the best track record and we certainly have the most insurmountable odds stacked against us… but that's how the universe works; in life you cannot acquire anything without struggle, strife or sacrifice…" She reached across to the human to hold his hand within her own free servo. "And even though reality hits us in the face and tries to destroy all of our hope… maybe, just maybe, this time we can actually do something right for once…" Her optics fell slightly in a downcasted fashion. "Maybe we can, out of every one or thing we have lost, just save him…"

Dael smiled as he caressed her mechanical hand within his own. "You really believe that, don't you?" He asked, a slight chuckle escaping his helmets respirator.

"You don't?" She replied with a slight smirk, watching his body tremble slightly in response to his own chuckling.

"I do now..."

-Scene change-

Venus was a beautiful world both pre and post the Golden Age, not that there was any doubt of such a claim. It was never disputed or refuted that the planet possessed far too much majesty to be considered repulsive or unsavoury in any fashion. The lands flourished with the most luscious plant life that varied between vastly sized trees, long consistent blades of grass and even the most mysterious and uncommon spirit bloom; any botanist given the accessibility to observe and study such interesting flora would most probably bring them a feeling of euphoria. The rock formations that littered the lands and the coasts stood with a crude beauty that only helped define and emphasise the previously mentioned flora.

The planet was a paradise…

Red-16, however, saw the world differently. As much as he may have claimed to love this planet and commonly declare his ownership of it, the Exo actually had a sourer outlook upon the wretched perdition everyone named a paradise. In actuality, behind all the jokes and claims to _his_ planets beauty, Red-16 actually hated that terraformed planet with a passion; he would never reveal this. He couldn't. He wouldn't. It would put him out of character; people would begin to suspect too much and ask questions. Questions they had no business asking. Questions that should never be given answers. Questions that should be forgotten.

He wondered to himself as Fiona's and his own Sparrow began to close in on the encamped position of his fellow Guardians, his thoughts drifting towards the past he had left behind on this infernal world. The people he had left behind, forgotten from his databanks. _Wiped_. The team… he once had… He could not remember them. He remembered that one had perished in… in the G-Gard… Was it in a Guardian's lair? Or was it by a Guardian's hand? No. That didn't feel right. It was a place, a location, where his teammate was lost. A place of… life? Yet, it was consumed in darkness. Ruled by what all Guardians believed was death. He would see a colour whenever he thought of the place. He would see the colour… colour… _**black**_? Heck, he didn't know anymore… Or cared. The other teammate… she… she might still be alive. It was possible but unlikely. Not that he cared. Maybe forgetting her might be a mercy for his processors and databanks, as he was sure that they could not handle the stress.

"Is everything okay, Red?" Fiona asked as they manoeuvred through the many Vex and Fallen skirmishes transpiring on their chosen coarse, her Sparrow wobbling slightly as the wing collided with a passing Vex Goblin and sent its remains bursting into flurry of crumpled metal. "You don't seem… you know, yourself…"

Red sighed as he started to slow his Sparrow to a steady cruising speed. "I am never better, little Sis!" He remarked optimistically, hoping that his falsified emotional state was enough to satisfy her question and curiosity. If not, he would need to come up with a more convincing lie; he still preferred a good lie over a horrible truth but lying to family was different. "I am just happy about coming home again… It has been a while…"

Fiona, accepting his response, turned her attention back to their objective. "Yeah, well, you can reminisce later. Aiden and Natasha are waiting for our support!" She explained as she hopped off her own vehicle and let it dematerialise into non-existence, her tainted Pulse Rifle being removed from its holster and held in a combat fashion. Sprinting ahead of the Exo, Fiona charged her way through the only opening in the Vex formation surrounding Natasha and Aiden and began to fight her way through the horde on her own, unaware of the Hunter simply sitting on his Sparrow and watching her from a distance.

His optics narrowed as he watched her shoulder barge a Hobgoblin into his compatriots, scattering the collective-minded automatons into a small bundle on the mossy ground; he almost grinned in amusement at the sight of their panicked mechanical squirms. Their pain. Their suffering. Their anguish. He missed it all. It was something he was looking forward to but such escapism was put in reserve for a while as he was called away to assist in the rescue of that newbie… Gabriel? Was that his name? He just remembered him as the _Soldier_ and nothing else. Only a short while as a Guardian and he already was given a title? Ridiculous. Other worthier Guardians had suffered beyond compare to earn their own titles; he was just given his after being thrown into the medical unit a few times and later let out of imprisonment to then fail an illegal operation! For now, he would push these thoughts aside. If not for Fiona and Cyrus' sakes, then for Cayde's. As much as he may not like that smug prick of an Exo, he certainly respected him.

Returning to observe battle before him, Red felt like still felt the presence of another watching metaphorically over his shoulders and he hated it. Hated the idea of someone watching and observing him like he was some animal. Hated someone trying to learn who he was. Even with this presence in the distance, Red still felt as if he could not let them see too much of what he wanted to hide; it always was more difficult when traversing the wretched planet that was Venus. His synthetic emotions were always more… _vibrant_ in that environment but for now, as to keep his emotions in check, he would merely sit upon his Sparrow and watch as the _Scholar_ charged her way through the hordes to get to her compatriots; he would not budge until he was ready.

Not until he was willing to interfere and accept the risk of compromise…

-Scene Change-

"Aiden!" The Nightstalker screamed as she watched the large Vex automaton lunge towards Aiden, her fear heightening at the possibility of the Titan sustaining any injury. "Don't just stand there, Man! Move!"

Words were incomprehensible. Sight was near impossible. Aiden's chances of escaping were dwindling faster than a Fallen's life-force while under interrogation of Spectre-42 and, to top it all off, it was raining. A menial irritant compared to the relentless horde of automatons bearing down on the twosome but it certainly was a detail that could not go unnoticed in the heat of such combat by the Guardian; especially since it was the only truly positive event to occur in the past few days. Well, apart from his prolonged time spent alone with Natasha that is. It certainly was hard to explain but for some unknown reason he seemed to become slightly fonder of her companionship compared to most others-in the sense that she did not annoy him as much as many other Guardians, anyway.

Thinking back to the Hunter, her sudden distressed voice broke him from his trance and forcefully made him aware of the Minotaur that loomed over him with a malicious intent. In defence against the metal monstrosity, Aiden raised his arms over his head and grunted as he took the full brunt of the attack, struggling to hold against its unrelenting determination to crush him beneath its mechanical form. He, however, knew that he was not only more impulsively adaptable compared to the machine but also, when pushed to his limits, far stronger than the automaton and knew he could react to the situation accordingly.

Steeling his already raised left appendage to withstand the full weight of the Minotaur, Aiden used his other to latch onto the abominations centre eye and begin to pull with as much force as he could. Planting a solid armoured boot onto the monster's chest-plate, the Sunbreaker ripped the optic from its socket and took the opportunity to also tear off the assailing right appendage. Recoiling in anguish at the brutal decapitation, the abomination toppled onto its back as Aiden rammed his _Chaperone_ into the monsters open optic socket and pulled the trigger.

Aiden sighed as the light from the Vex's body flickered and died, his attempts to hold onto this moment of success as long as reality would deem held just long enough to satisfy him. "One down." He muttered, looking up with a distinct frown to see the larger forms of two Minotaurs approach and target him for elimination; he thought today might have gotten better. No such luck. "Many more to go…"

Raising his _Chaperone_ towards the left Minotaur, Aiden prepared to assault the two opposing automatons and fight his way back to Natasha but was halted when he heard a distinct roaring. A familiar roar he had heard every time a fellow Titan who specialised with Arc energy would enter the battlefield and begin an almost beautiful spree of destruction. Leaping back as fast as he was physically able, Aiden nearly let out a breath of relief as the electronic wave of destruction tore through the left Minotaur and sent the other into tumbling to the ground-a few limbs being torn from its still working body.

Descending from the previous attack, Aiden watched as the Titan lunged towards the downed Minotaur before it could recover and slammed her fist into its chest. The machine roared in agony as its core was crushed and its synthetic life seeped away. Standing from her crouched placement on the monstrosities chest, the Striker gave a little wave towards the Sunbreaker; she saw it as a way to _break the ice_ , so to speak.

"How's it going, Aiden!?" She remarked with an invisible smirk; she clearly appeared to be enjoying the current situation far more than Aiden did. If he were a more emotional individual, he would have considered snorting at her attitude but felt it was inappropriate; not that her adolescent enjoyment seemed any more appropriate. "I had Cryotech establish communications when we came within range. Sorry we took so long!"

Rolling his eyes, the Sunbreaker began his charge through the Vex forces in an attempt to get to Natasha, his momentum propelling him towards his charge. Throwing his propelled body into the crowd, Aiden skilfully landed himself beside Natasha to join her in her defence against the barrage of relentless automatons. Glancing back to her, he strained to hear laughter almost being drowned out by the sound of her own weapon firing torrents into the enemy forces; he almost felt like smiling at the sound.

"What took you so long, Aiden?" She asked mockingly, taking an obvious glance at the newly arrived Titan. "And when did the rookie show up?"

Ignoring her question, the Titan took a quick glance as his HUDs motion sensor and analysed the slowly depleting number of Vex forces encircling their position. So far, the depletion of all these Vex had been a slow process and fairly arduous but with the arrival of the rookie Titan-and any other possible reinforcements in the vicinity-the task ahead did not seem so daunting. Making an estimation of her abilities, Aiden guessed that Fiona's kill-rate could be around seven enemies every three minutes-including the addition of any other factors such as a Hydra level enemy; an impressive statistic for someone with so little experience against this particular enemy. Also, taking into account the already impressive kill-rate of both Natasha and himself, Aiden was sure that they could finish this unexpected conflict within the next ten minutes.

Well, as long as nothing else interfered, that is…

-Scene Change-

Time was an abstract concept to those who were patient enough, to those who were willing enough to wait for opportunity to come to them; only those who knew of this idealism would be able to succeed and the Vex were some of the only sentient beings in this universe to know of this. That was the reason they always succeeded. Guardians whom had ventured into the Garden and the Vault bared witness to what the past and the future bore. The Vex's past was personified in the Precursors. The Vex's future was personified in the forms of the Descendants. To have such a future, they had to have been completely removed from time; being outsiders to one of the most integral parts of reality made them nearly unstoppable. It made them some of the most dangerous material beings in the universe.

The one to recognise this the most was none other than Warden-217, a Guardian whom had lost the concept of time many centuries ago. Being thrown through time by the Vex and living the way they do can change your outlook if you're not careful. From studying the many clues and evidence left behind by Preadyth and his team, Warden and Swoop discovered that the quickest route to removing time as a factor of your personal reality was to remove your own concept of sanity; a trivial factor within the psyche that had to be removed to accomplish anything.

Warden had learned this through his many hours of self-contemplation within the confines of his moments in purgatory between wipes. Sometimes, within these uncharted dreamscapes, he would discover clarity alongside the _Black Tower_ that every Exo was charged with finding as to return to the material world. A world of imperfection. Not that the immaterial dreamscape was much of an improvement. Sometimes he would be on an _easy streak_ and find his objective within a matter of hours, possibly days. Other times, however, he has lost entire weeks while searching for that accursed target; halted by unknown enemies shrouded in pure darkness that seemed to only drive his hatred further into the reaches of the deranged. That was it. That was how he discovered it. By killing and learning to enjoy the action was a start on breaking your psyche; a slow one but it was still a start.

Swoop, however, saw it differently. To break one's mind, one must delve into an obsession and lose themselves within it. An obsession can push someone's more reasonable thought patterns to an overloading point and leaving it exhausted but the ingenious part was still to come. Swoop was also aware of a certain subroutine all brains follow that compel them to complete any task they have set themselves; and there are drawbacks to not following natural protocol. The mind will begin to subconsciously obsess over the incomplete task, subtly reminding you of its existence. The longer you leave it, the more difficult it becomes to control. The more difficult it becomes to control, the further it wreaks havoc into you psyche.

Both methods could be considered just theories of a deluded mind; they most probably were such. However, at this point in time, as they both watched over the small Fireteam fighting the Vex hordes, neither Guardian nor Ghost truly cared about what people thought of them. Nor did they care for the team they had been observing for the past few hours, for that matter. They would both go as far as to admit that they did not care for anyone outside their field of interest, that they had distanced themselves from petty distractions; that was how their life would always have to be from now on.

Warden-217 narrowed his optics as he began to observe the battle taking place below him. His ever attentive gaze latched onto every movement, every detail and every tactic used within the small firefight of the _Light_ and the _Dark_. Both sides fought with a steely determination, though that advantage seemed to favour the _Light_ , and neither were willing to admit any level of defeat. The Guardians simply refused defeat as it was against their nature to survive through thick and thin. For the Vex, it was an eventuality that they would prefer to not occur in this time scape. They knew that this skirmish was a pointless endeavour as it had no real strategic value but what it did do was help either thin the horde of the _light_ or slow them down. Not that it seemed to be working for the automatons…

Scanning the object beside the tainted Titan, Swoop _hummed_ and _harred_ about the, once lost, helmet they had discovered in the confines of that wretched _Vault_. "You do know that, once again, you were wrong, Warden." The red scanner faded as the Ghost flinched from the sudden spark that wracked his body. "Ugh! I hate those… Anyway, do you wish to know why?" Warden gave a single glance towards the Ghost, his expression showing how uninterested he was. "Well, I am going to tell you anyway!" He declared with a slight decline of his panels.

Warden lifted the helmet in his gauntlet as to examine the large, singular optic lodged into its centre. "This piece of armour that we acquired within the _Vault_ was not once owned by Preadyth, like you had so ridiculously assumed." Warden narrowed his optics further at the obvious insult to his intelligence. "It was, in fact, created and owned by a Guardian named Kabr whom was also part of the Fireteam…" He gazed towards Warden with his singular, red optic. "A fact of great interest, no?"

Warden emitted a low sound from his throat, a sound that even Swoop was unfamiliar with. "No Swoop. It is not…" He remarked, following up with a further unexpected chuckle. "But that," He lifts his hand to point ahead. "Is…"

Swoop narrowed his plates as he glanced towards this supposed object of interest and finds himself confused at the sight. "Is that who I think it is?" He asked, watching the person of interest with a keen optic. "Why is he sitting back from the battle?" Warden glances oddly at the Ghost's contemplations, finding his deranged curiosity almost amusing. "Is he cower-No… His vigour in battle almost rivals our own… Is he planning? Not likely, as he prefers actions over planning." The Ghost begins to mutter insanely, his sparking becoming more frequent. "A moment of contemplation over a supposedly private matter? Possible. His optics are narrowed in anger and show his level of concentration. His grip is tense, as if he is attempting to steady himself…" His body sparks, almost as if it were comically timed with his moment of revelation. "It's about… It's about the Garden, isn't it? About what happened to him and his team…"

Warden almost smirked as he watched his fellow Exo sit atop his Sparrow a fair distance from the battle, his interest piqued at the interesting sight. It certainly had both himself and Swoop befuddled at the sight; that certainly was something that was not common. That was what they truly loved about being distanced from the abstract concept of time governing all reality: Mysteries. The surprises it brought to those willing to listen and learn were beyond phenomenal.

And Red-16…

 _He was clearly a mystery hidden behind a mask… A façade, if you will…_

 _For a Monarch such as he to tell a lie…_

 _Warden wondered how difficult he really was to kill…_

 _And continued to ponder about how many more times would he die…_

-Scene Change-

"Get out of my way!" Renton barked as he shoved a fellow Guardian to the ground, the resulting action causing the shoved man to curse his name as he watched him continue his unstoppable charge. Diomedes glanced back at the Guardian recovering from the unexpected shove and almost felt himself relieve rather urgently when he realised whom it was. "Sorry, Dakota! I am in a hurry! I will apologise later, honest!"

Continuing before he could even comprehend a reply, the Warlock sprinted as fast he could towards the Vanguard's domain with a panic-induced vengeance. He had not an ounce of care for the poor souls tossed aside as he ran as they were just obstacles in his path and did not mean anything to his mission.

They were lumps of metal and flesh to him. Nothing more. Nothing less. He couldn't distinguish the difference anymore, not for a lack of trying. Instead of people before him, Renton could only see the roaming husks of the _light_. They were all dead beings of a dead power that spread nothing but death to all they would ever come across. He wished he did not see them as such as it was a horrid way to represent the people who care about him and fight by his side but seeing so much death… So much horror… It really could open your eyes to the reality of the world.

Renton's boots clinked against each step as he came closer to the Vanguard's domain, his footsteps becoming heavier and more determined with each passing few metres as to reach his target more quickly. His advance was stopped suddenly as he stumbled over the boots placed purposely in his path, causing him to slam into the floor with a solid grunt. Glancing skyward, Renton frowned out the sight of a pair of glowing sky-blue eyes glinting menacingly at his vulnerable form.

Renton snarled. "Zoya…" He muttered, gritting his teeth in response to his pain and her very presence in his path. "What the hell do you want?" The Warlock lifted himself from the stone floors and brushed his cloak, a familiar despairing shroud surrounding his face. "As you can most probably see, I am busy!"

Zoya frowned as she pulled him away from the Vanguard's domain. "I know exactly what you're going to do and I am here to stop you." She declared as she pushed him towards a nearby wall, cornering him from any escape. "You are not going to report Warden or Swoop to the Vanguard, understand?"

Appearing beside his owner, Sparks narrowed his optic at the Warlock's demand. "And why would you not want us to do our duty and inform the Vanguard of this threat to us all?" He asked with a slight inclination towards her. "You, Dakota, Felix, Jai and Renton were all in the _Vault_ and we all saw what he did, what he and that malfunction of a Ghost truly are!"

The Warlock sighed, a gauntlet brushing against her light blue cheek, with a sharp narrow of her eyes in irritation. "If you two haven't noticed, you are not the first to report that monster to the Vanguard and it has only resulted in wasted time and air." Her eyes declined into a down casted gaze. "As much as I respect the members of the Vanguard and trust their judgement, I know that they will not look into this case."

"And why is that?" Renton question hesitantly.

Zoya spared a glance towards the Vanguard within their province. "They need monsters to win this war." She explained grimly. "Why do you think they let teams like Fireteam Spirit still operate when they should have been sanctioned and separated years ago?"

"They… need them." Sparks deduced.

"Exactly…"

Renton glanced towards the Vanguard. "I am still going to tell them." He declared. "They need to at least be slightly more aware of their errors in letting Warden and Swoop roam free."

Zoya almost smirked at his determination, finding a small swell of pride at the sight. "Fine but, when they deny your claim, come meet me in the hanger." She declared as she began to stroll away from the confused Walock. "I have a mission for us that should help with this _Warden_ situation. A way even the Vanguard won't be able to interfere with."

Watching her leave, Renton Diomedes and Sparks felt ever more confused with the conversation they just partook in. Everything Zoya had said did appear to be genuine, not that she was known to bend the truth; she certainly did not ever hold back from telling the truth, no matter how blunt. However, something about what she had said unnerved Renton and his Ghost. The Vanguard were supposed to be one of the ruling authorities of the Tower community; even to them Warden-217 was untouchable. Even to the rifts of time he was untouchable.

The prospect unnerved the duo as they began to trek towards the Vanguard, plaguing them with terrifying thoughts about how untouchable and immortal Warden-217 truly was.

 _It scared them both…_

 _He had seen many monstrosities in his short life. The terrible legions of the Vex on Venus. The pits of the Moon. The fellow Guardians and teammates he had seen perish._

 _But none of it scarred Renton and Sparks more than that machine and his psychopathic Ghost…_

 _Not the Hive…_

 _Not the Vex..._

 _Not even the Darkness itself…_

 _Warden was not even the enemy…_

 _And that irony worried them the most…_


	6. Chapter VI: Treading the Line

**Disclaimer: As you know, I do not own this franchise. I only own some of the OCs and others go to their respective owners.**

 **So, let's get started…**

Chapter VI: Treading the Line…

"I am sorry, Renton, but we must decline your accusation until a further date where we can analyse it more thoroughly." The Vanguard official declared, avoiding the gaze of the infuriated Warlock and instead taking notice of the war-tables holographic display. "Now, if you don't mind, we are in the middle of a meeting."

The Warlock's teeth grit and grinded against one another, his temper reaching boiling point. "With all due respect, Vanguard Ikora, you cannot be serious!" His gauntleted hand slammed against the table with a solid clang, gaining the full attention of the five members of the meeting. "With all the evidence presented to you by myself and my fellow Guardians, how can you blatantly ignore the threat posed by that menace and his malfunctioning Ghost!"

"With all due respect,Renton, you have no place to talk in such a manner to myself or the other members of the Vanguard." Her eyes narrowed dangerously at the insubordinate Guardian. "You are delving into matters that a far above your level of knowledge and are strictly on a need-to-know basis."

The furthest of the representatives from the group, Cayde-6, sighed in discontent as he leaned against the table. "Sorry, pal." He remarked with disregarding flick of his wrist. "You're one of those who don't need to know."

Sparks hovered by his master's side, his armoured plates declining in synthetic rage. "How can you all preach to the other Guardians that everything you do is in our best interests but completely decline this vey blatant and obvious knowledge?!" The Ghost barked with a sharp edge in his metallic tone. "How can you be so incompetent and stubborn that you would blatantly ignore this!?"

"Calm down, both of you." Felix interjected with a frustrated sigh.

Renton nearly recoiled at his presence, almost forgetting that he had been lingering within the room for the duration of the conversation. "How can you side with them, Felix!?" His rage latched onto the Hunter with a surprising vigour. Felix tried his best to not humour the situation. "You were there! You saw everything!"

"Enough!" The Titan Vanguard snapped with a heavy gauntlet slamming into the war-table, silencing the entire room. "I have listened to you both for long enough." Renton tensed slightly, eyes large with fear. "I will not have you speak such insubordination within my War-Room about a fellow Guardian whom is far more experienced and valuable in the field than you currently are!" Diomedes and his Ghost flinched at his harsh tone, backing away slightly. "I want to hear no more of this, Understood?"

Renton scowled, though still slightly on edge. "But, Sir, I think tha-"

"Is that understood!?"

His head declined. "Yes…" He sighed as he began to voluntarily dismiss himself from the War-Chamber. "Yes, Sir."

Waiting for the doors to seal, Cayde whistled at the display his fellow Vanguard had shown himself and their fellow Guardians. "You know, you didn't need to be so harsh on the kid, Zavala." He remarked with a hand placed against the war-table, the other loosely spinning a Data-Pad as to amuse himself. "He isn't the first to report _his_ actions, as of late…"

Zavala snarled slightly at the Hunter. "And what would you propose we do instead?" He asked mockingly, though it appeared difficult to tell through the condescending tone. "Just tell them that we have been disregarding this information for as long as we already have?" He tilted his head away, shame evident. "You know that there would be an uproar…"

Cayde snickered to himself, finding the situation slightly humorous. "Okay, good point." He glanced at the fifth member of their meeting. "So, Galva, have you got any _ancient_ wisdom to impart on us ignorant servants of the light?" He asked with a smirk, watching the unique hybrid glance towards him with her modified human eyes.

"Well," She began with a glance towards the war-table, the Hunter taking notice of the soft mechanical clicks coming from her supposed eyes. "with a tone as ridiculously snarky as that, I am not sure why you are surprised I called you such a thing." Her thin lips danced with a faint smile. "Still, I believe that Zavala is correct in his decision to hide our mutual associates actions from the rest of the tower." She drew a faint line with her index digit across the faintly glowing circuitry lines trailing across the flesh of her cheek, finding the action slightly comforting. "When you have existed as long as myself, you begin to see a familiar pattern in collective human behaviour when they are met with deceit."

The Warlock Vanguard scoffed. "But we cannot be sure how long this secret can be kept." She massaged her temple slightly, soothing her growing temper. "It is only a matter of time before someone reveals too much and too many Guardians begin to listen!"

"Ikora, losing our temper will not amount to anything, now will it?" Felix explained mockingly with a hand placed below his armoured chin, a faint smirk evident on his lips. "You, along with the rest of our small council, know that if we just asked the Future War Cult for assistance they could easily discern any prying eyes from our little secret."

Cayde rolled his eyes at his fellow Hunter. "Here we go..." He raised a hand pointed a single digit at the fifth member of their meeting. "You know, as well as myself, that if we ask them for help, we will owe them and none of us want that."

Felix defensively raised both of his armoured hands. "It was merely a suggestion, Cayde." His helmeted brown eyes flickered with a hidden gleam. "Nothing more. Nothing less."

The room fell silent for a moment, the five Guardians all attempting to say something to quell the awkwardness of the situation but they all amounted to nothing. It was all on their minds. The source of their anguish. The memory that had left them all in such turmoil. The one decision they had agreed upon that only brought them misery. It haunted them and none of them were willing to crack first, each one waiting for the other to submit. Finally, Cayde decided that he should state what the entire group had been thinking. "I miss having him at these meetings…"

Ikora nodded in agreement. "We all do, Cayde." She replied with a heavy sigh, her eyes downcast towards her table-side.

"We cannot change the past." Galva declared.

"Galva, that's not what we are talking about." Felix explained. "We just… It's just natural for humans to wish that we could have changed actions and choices we regret." His masked eyes glanced away. "If we had never sent him on that blasted mission all those decades ago, maybe he… maybe he would…"

Zavala stood tall, his large frame standing to its peek as he gained the attention of the council. "That does not matter anymore, Felix." His eyes remained stern. "I agree that, of our many decisions within this council, it is appropriate to assume that the choice to send Warden-19…" He coughed awkwardly, noticing the many other Guardians glance downward. "The choice to send Warden-217 to the Vault of Glass was a mistake we can never retake and it has only given us grief at the loss of a very valued friend and colleague." His gauntleted digits clicked against the interface of the War-Table, altering the holographic interface to the image of their original topic: The Fallen. "However, all of this still does not tell us what we should do regarding our new _allies_."

"What do you mean?" Cayde inquired, a synthetically confused expression etched upon his metallic features. "I don't really see much of problem with them." The other council members turned their gaze towards him expectantly, waiting for the Exo to explain himself. "While we have the kid here, we haven't got anything to worry about, right?"

Felix scoffed. "Are you kidding me, right now, Cayde?" He pointed towards the House of Exile's sigil holographically displaying upon the war-table. "These aliens, whom have been opposing us for over a century, are a complete wild card that we have almost absolutely no jurisdiction over and, now, we also have far too many variables with this recently recovered Guardian whom is not only an inexperienced soldier but also has near-zero to no qualifications that make him a reliable ambassador."

"But you cannot be so cynical about this!" Cayde argued. "If he is the only person whom they will listen to, then we cannot just ignore that!"

Galva coughed, interrupting the two bickering officials and drawing their attention towards her. "You are both ignoring the obvious solution to your conundrum." The Hybrid stated simply, closing her eyes and letting an image of pure serenity consume her angelic features. "You cannot fully assess a situation without enough information to work from and this has only one logical conclusion."

Zavala narrowed his brow in thought. Was she suggesting what he thought she was? "Are you suggesting that we enlist another Guardian to become Gabriel's new observer?" He asked with a single gauntleted hand placed on his chin, letting the speculated idea roam within his mind. "If so, whom would you have in mind?"

Galva indicated towards Felix and Ikora, her lips forming a small smile. "I believe that both Felix and Ikora have the perfect candidate in mind." The two glanced at one-another and almost felt shock at the Hybrids quick mind and remarkable perception. "Am I not correct?"

Felix raised his hand to his chin once more, contemplating her words. "If you are referring to whom I believe you are, then I do agree that you may actually have a point." He explained. "Our candidate to replace Gabriel Locker's previous _observer_ must fit into the qualification of both having his trust and being able to operate without suspicion; our agent must also be completely dedicated to our cause and motives."

Ikora nodded. "And there is only one Guardian whom fits into said category."

Cayde's optics widened as the identity of their new informant dawned upon him. "No! I won't allow it!" He snapped, shocking the two out from their conversation. "I will not let you use him like he is some damned puppet!"

Zavala furrowed his brow at the Hunter's statement. "Whether we choose to follow this course of action or not, you should remember that he is not under your jurisdiction, Cayde." Cayde flinched at his stern tone, finding his defiance deflate slightly.

"Bullshit!" He retorted, watching Zavala furrow his brow further into a harsh glare. "I'm the only reason he is still a Guardian! When he was in trouble, after the incident, you wanted nothing to do with him!" His hand raised and pointed accusingly at the Titan. "And, now that he has become useful to you, you want him to follow your orders like some fucking dog!"

"Cayde." Felix interrupted. "What you do not realise about our candidate is that he is not only under Ikora's jurisdiction for being a Warlock but he is also under my own authority." He explained with a faint smirk beneath his mask. "As dedicated as he is to the Tower and his allies, he is also a firm believer and dedicated member in the Future War Cult and its beliefs." He gestured towards himself as to punctuate his point. "And, as you may have noticed, I am not only a member, but a member of a fairly high standing." He chuckled slightly at Cayde's snarl. "With the order from me, and enough persuasion, I believe that I could easily convince him."

Zavala gazed towards Cayde, noticing his concerned expression. "Are we sure we do not have any other possible candidates?" He inquired.

Felix tapped his finger against his chin. "Well," he hummed, "I guess we could ask Spectre-42 to d-"

"No!" Cayde snapped. "Not. Him."

Zavala nodded. "Then it is settled." The Vanguard concurred, ignoring Cayde's disagreeing grunt. "Once their mission is complete, we will bring Alex here for a meeting regarding Gabriel and his temporary enrolment in Fireteam Spirit but, be aware, we cannot inform him of our plan to use his own team member as our Agent to watch over Gabriel." He felt Cayde's optics burn into him but chose to ignore it. "We will, instead, tell him that we are enlisting Gabriel to watch over his team and our new informant; this will hopefully solidify our new observer's trustworthiness and also give us some insight on both Fireteam Spirit and Gabriel."

"Two birds with one stone." Felix remarked.

Ikora bristled slightly. "What about that Fallen that seems to accompany him everywhere he goes?" She inquired. "Will she be joining him while he is stationed with Fireteam Spirit?"

Zavala nodded once more. "Yes, Ikora, this Fallen will be accompanying them." He explained, wondering if this truly was a sound idea.

Gabriel, alone, was a factor that they knew that the team would be able to handle without much issue but the Fallen was a whole other story. He knew Alex would be trustworthy enough around the Fallen Baroness and would most probably keep the peace between her and the others. Cyrus and Fiona would most likely fall in line. They knew when to follow orders. Red would be hesitant but would eventually accept it, most likely not wanting to have a disagreement with his commanding Officer. Nevertheless, there was still one person they had not considered: Spectre-42.

"But what about Spectre?" Cayde questioned aggressively, finding this whole situation certainly not positive in the slightest. "We already know that he is a notorious _zealot_ whom despises anything that is not Human, Awoken or Exo! Even then, he is incredibly vicious and has no problem eliminating any threats that are in his way!" Felix rolled his eyes at the Hunter's uninteresting rant. "How do we know he will be trustworthy?"

Felix chuckled at the Hunters ignorance. "Of course he won't be trustworthy, Cayde." He declared, watching the Vanguard's fury rise. "That is what I am expecting of him." He knew Cayde would react like this, it was almost entirely predictable. A reaction to this type of situation always did seem to trail towards a large consistency of brash words. "That is why the reason I will not inform him of any further developments and continue to refuse his requests to become Gabriel's new observer. As diligent and competent as he may be, Gabriel will not appreciate such an… opinionated individual as his watcher."

"But how do you know he will follow your orders and not take matters into his own hands?" He asked with a scolding glare. "He is far to brash and unstable to be trusted!"

Felix sighed as he gave a disheartened smile. "Well, you would know, Cayde." Cayde's optics narrowed slightly at his obvious implication, ignoring the rest of the council and focusing all his fury towards the obnoxious Hunter. "You were the one made him a Guardian when he first emerged from his time in the _Faction Wars_." His words hit Cayde like a brick wall, slamming all of his aggression into dust and instead replacing it with shock. "You were the one who taught him _how_ to be a Hunter."

"Felix, I think that is enough." Ikora interjected, hoping to remedy the crumbling discussion the council needed to desperately conclude. "We need to reach a decision on the current matter."

"Agreed." Felix conceded.

"All in favour of appointing Guardian Kitori as Guardian Locker's new _observer_ , say ' _Aye_ '!"

"Aye!" They replied in sync, the majority refusing to acknowledge the lack of enthusiasm in Cayde's own agreeing chant.

Zavala bowed his head as he began to type away at the war-table and shut the piece of equipment down for later usage. "Excellent." He remarked as he indicated towards the exit. "This meeting is adjourned. We will review the results of our decision at our next meeting."

"Yes, Sir!"

– Scene Change –

This was most probably the worst day of his entire life. His house had just begun to recover from the exile of one of their captains – a tragic stain upon their honour and pride – and now it only went further downhill with the unexpected attack from those wretched thieves. _Them_. Those scum. They had already stolen the Great Machine from them and, now that they had it, they wanted to finish their bloody work and eliminate them all.

 _ **This was truly a dark day.**_

The Devil's multiple arms strained as he attempted to pull himself over the small ridge, his muscles straining under the immense pressure of physical exhaustion. He pulled himself upwards with what little strength he possessed and lifted his body to the hills highest point, sighing in relief. The captain stood to a deformed hunch of his usually towering stature and took the small opportunity to glance behind him for his pursuers, hoping that he had escaped them and their murderous intentions.

He had counted their numbers, ever since they had began their merciless attack on his battalion; there had been _one_. A single thief had done this to them but the Captain was sure there would be more. There were always more lurking in the shadows and waiting to strike. He had known this from experience. Some were more open about their numbers, choosing to attack head on in a brutal and aggressive attack that would leave their targets reeling and disorganised. The majority, however, used the tactics of the shadow; hiding and waiting for the most opportune moment to strike and slaughter all in who stood their path. Not that the captain could blame them; he knew it was what they had been _made_ for.

His multiple eyes scoured the lands, finding nothing in his wide vision but the remains of his men and their ship. He gave a deep and rumbling sigh as he saw their bodies strewn across the ground in such an undignified way. It was almost sickening to watch. Many of them were missing their limbs – most probably from the blast. Others had been executed by their enemy in their moment of vulnerability, their craniums blasted open and left bare to the earth below. The captain could still see some of their Ether seeping from their bodies.

' _Ether…'_ He repeated as he glanced down to his chest and the large gash that had been created by a flying piece of shrapnel; he also took note at the amount of Ether leaking from the wound. Too much was leaking away and it made him feel weak. He was beginning to become drowsy, barely able to keep his eyes open for more than a few seconds at a time. His senses were slipping and his awareness was becoming dull. This pain was not worth what they had done, whom they had protected and traded with. Those _defectors_ were not worth this many troops. They were not worth this much pain.

Bringing up his still stable arm to the side of his helmet, he called through his comm for any other survivors to respond; he hoped someone else had made it. Silence. Just static. Was there truly no one else? Was he the only survivor of his battalion? It certainly looked that way. With no more troops to assist him and no medical equipment in sight, he surely seemed doomed; restricted to shortwave communications. He called once more and sighed as he was rewarded with the same infuriating silence as before.

" **Defectors… Not worth so many…"** He declared coldly in the defectors native tongue, venom dripping through his gravely tone. He felt so ashamed to have let it go this far and to lose so many of those he had once considered comrades in arms.

An unknown voice, speaking in the _defectors_ native tongue, interrupted the Captain's grief. "Oh, I don't know…" The Captain turned, raising his Shrapnel Launcher with a trembling free arm, and caught sight of the intruder. "I thought I made a good show out of it!" It was one of them; he was a _Thief_.

" **You!"** The Captain boomed as the armoured frills upon his head stood on end and his large jaw clenched. **"Wiped out my battalion. Disgraced me."** His cannon faltered slightly as he felt his strength slowly drain from his form but he did not back down. He could not show weakness now. **"Where are others!? Where are allies?!"**

The Exo tilted his head slightly and gave a slight chuckle. "My allies?" He asked. "What, in Crota's despicable name, are you talking about, Xeno?"

The Captain growled at what he assumed was mockery from the _thief_. How dare he do this to him! First he assists in the elimination of his people, then he refuses to acknowledge any questions he asks and feigns ignorance. This truly was a dishonour that must be rectified. **"Do not lie!"** He barked ferociously, gesturing aggressively with a thrust of his gun towards the _thief._ **"If they are not cowards, they will face me! Not hide!"** He reared towards the Guardian with a sharp narrow of his piercing glowing eyes. **"You all attacked my battalion! WHERE. ARE. THEY!?"**

"I don't know what to tell you, buddy." He reiterated to the towering Captain in a mocking tone, proceeding to laugh as he hoped off his perch. At this point, he didn't really seem to care what the Fallen thought of him or the others. He would not be alive long enough to continue anyway. "I came here alone to just have some fun, ride my Sparrow… _**Spill some blood.**_ " He raised both his arms with an innocent shrug. "I am sorry about that, I really am, but you should already have guessed that this was not the actions of multiple Guardians."

The xeno growled. **"You lie!"**

The Exo chuckled once again as he strolled past the Captain, taking a moment to examine the scenery. Earth certainly was nice this time of night. "Why would I lie to you now, Fallen?" He asked, giving the simplest indication towards the view. "It's too nice out." The Fallen followed his gesture and also gazed upon the land ahead, finding the smallest comfort in this serenity and silence. It would not last but the Fallen could still enjoy it for what short time he had left. "Anyway, I am not supposed to kill you."

" **What are you saying, machine?"** The Fallen tilted its head slightly, taking a short and expectant glance towards the _thief_. **"Why were you not supposed to kill me?"**

The Captain narrowed his eyes as he gazed further into the distance, noticing a bright glinting object begging for his undivided attention. He wondered what it could be, pondered it. Was it a piece of debris from his ship? No, a majority of his ship's debris had landed behind them and it was very unlikely for it to travel such a distance after the crash; not impossible but simply improbable. Was it a distress flare? Not possible. Also, idiotic. A flare emits torrents of coloured smoke to attract the attention of any lifeform nearby; this glinting light did not fit such an opposing description. A signal A beacon, maybe? Also, unlikely. This flickering light, though attention grabbing like a beacon, flickered continuously instead of periodically – along also lacking any identifiable colour. It truly was a mystery.

He wondered why he was so attracted to it. It was nothing more than a glinting little light in the distance that had no relevance to his current situation. It was menial, a distraction for the simple-minded and yet… he was inexplicably drawn to it. The machine had also been silent this entire time. He was probably drawn in by the same luminous anomaly as the Captain. It was not really a surprise. This particular _thief_ did not seem very intellige-

 _ **CRACK!**_

The Fallen screamed as he felt a sudden impact tear through his lower torso, sending his body downward. He grunted as he collided with the earth below and nearly gasped as the pain in his side flared to unbearable levels. He attempted to use his upper right arm to reach the wound and cover it, hopefully slowing the bleeding pace of his precious _Ether_. He felt the joint twitch slightly, reassuring him that – even though they had become numb – he could still operate his arms; he hoped the struggle to operate it would not increase his suffering.

He felt something clumsily thud against his armour, a few centimetres short of his wound, and wondered – with a rising fear – what it could possibly be. Opening his weary eyes, the Captain searched for the offending object thumping against his chest plate. Glancing downward, he recoiled slightly as he saw the stump that was once his upper right arm; almost roaring in objection of the gruesome sight. Looking further down his already battered torso, the Captain examined the further damage caused by the unknown attack. A large majority of his lower right torso was missing, the lower arm torn away entirely and left strewn limply at his side. In a moment of weakness, the Devil Captain unleashed a hellish scream of agony.

The Exo sighed as listened to the agonized wailing coming from the wounded xeno. "Yeah, really should have seen that coming." He remarked, listening to the powerful roars coming from the two approaching Sparrows with a confident smirk. "Took you two long enough!"

The first of the two leapt from his vehicle and gave a hearty chuckle, raising his hands in a carefree manner. "Sorry about that, Ragnar." He jutted a thumb towards their other companion. "Nyx was having one of his many inconvenient _'visions'_ and held us all up."

The corrupted Exo glared towards his accuser. "Keep it to yourself, Spectre." He snapped. "My visions are not an inconvenience! They prophesise the fut-"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah…" The Cult representative waved dismissively, silencing the Exo. "I lost interest a while ago, Nyx." He wandered towards the screaming creature squirming along the dusty earth below and watched it with a slight smirk, a slight chuckle emitting from his metallic throat. "So, how much did you let slip this time, Ragnar?"

"Nothing important." Deflecting the accusation with a shake of his head, his optics flickered an ominous green once again. "Beautiful shot, by the way." He remarked as he lowered himself to his knees as to examine the bleeding wound more thoroughly, bouncing slightly on his metallic heels with some sense of giddiness. "So much collateral damage to subjects the body seems like a very evident indication of your own despicable work, Spectre…"

"You can thank Nyx for that, Ragnar." the Cult Exo declared with a dismissive wave, his attention primarily centred on the screaming xeno before him. "If I had taken the shot," his smirk fell to a distinct snarl as he raised his boot and stamped against the creature's faceplate, seemingly fulling all his hate into the antagonistic action. "he would be in far more pain!"

Nyx glared fiercely at the Exo. "The shot was meant to simply incapacitate the Eliksni, not send it into shock!"

Spectre tilted his head towards his fellow Hunter, silencing Nyx from continuing his retort. "Again, Nyx, do I care?" The Hunter turned his attention towards the monster squirming feebly beneath his boot, the pressure from his agonizing action increasing with every second. With every scream, Spectre felt his synthetic emotions heighten to a point of near giddiness and felt an even more desirable urge to continue the torture for a few more hours. It would not be difficult. He could just dismiss these two followers and let them leave him to his fun but felt that this needed to come to an end. He had a mission and this miserable piece of filth had the information he needed. "We need to focus on _**him**_."

" **Do what you will, filthy machine!** " The xeno wheezed as he attempted to speak, his arms clamping weakly to the Exo's leg. " **I have nothing to tell!** "

The Exo growled at the Fallen's declaration, removing his boot from the creature's faceplate. "Since when did I give you permission to talk!" He leaned down and slammed a solid punch into the creature's helmet, slamming the Captain's head into the earth and cracking the helmet slightly. "You don't _**get**_ to talk!" Another fist connected, cracking the helmets respirator. "You _**filthy**_ xeno!" The next flung the lower half of the respirator away from them and let the three Guardian's bear witness to the creatures horrifically razor like teeth; Nyx began to become slightly uncomfortable watching the brutality but held his tongue, metaphorically. "I hope you feel this, _ **you fucking parasite!**_ " He halted his assault and turned his attention towards the large gaping wound upon the Fallen's lower torso but he paused. "Now that you know your place, maybe you will answer some of our questions and you better tell the truth…"

The Captain tried his best to remain silent, failing as his ragged breathing wheezed aggressively and his eyes streamed with uncontrollable tears, but refused to budge. He could not crack now. "I'll go first!" Ragnar remarked gleefully as he sat himself upon a nearby rock formation, pulling his knees to his chest like a child. "Where are those traitorous Guardians you and your House has been assisting?" The Captain felt unnerved by the Exo's tone, finding it far to innocent to be trustworthy. "We know they were here, so, just make it easier on yourself and tell us!"

The Captain remained silent, turning his face away from them to show his dismissal. Spectre snarled once again, raising himself up and taking the opportunity to stamp his boot against the undamaged portion of his face. " _ **Speak.**_ " He stamped once again. " _ **When.**_ " Another stomp crumpled the lower section of the Captain's jaw. " _ **Spoken.**_ " Nyx flinched away as he heard the gruesome crunch that came from the following plunge of Spectre's boot. " _ **To!**_ "

As the Exo halted his assault, the Fallen Captain proceeded to spit a few dislodged teeth from his mouth and sighed as he noticed the small composition of Eliksni blood and teeth splayed in the small splat that he had created. " **I will ne-never answer to you, machine!** " The creature bared his teeth with an animalistic snarl. " **I would ra-ra-rather die!** "

"Wrong answer." Spectre remarked as he reached his metallic hand into the creatures wound and latched a hold onto it with enough pressure to get the creature screaming even louder. The creature wailed as the pressure on his wound increased to unbearable levels, limbs flailing in an attempt to injure or impede his attack but found that his attacks were doing absolutely nothing to the Exo. Spectre tilted his head, finding the creatures animalistic wailing to be more of a bore than he had previously anticipated.

"Spectre!" Nyx interjected, receiving a slight head-tilt in response. "Stop this needless torture at once!"

Ragnar's optics blinked questionably. "Did your visions tell you that?" He mocked, slapping his knee as he began to giggle to himself uncontrollably.

Before Nyx could respond, they both flinched as the sudden crack of a gunshot resounding at their feet and attracting their attention towards the hated Zealot. His weapon had been primed, aimed with a single arm towards the ground below them and the barrel streaming with smoke from the recent departure of a bullet. They looked towards the triggerman, noting the vicious snarl that had now been directed towards them. " _ **Be Quiet, or the next shot puts you both down!**_ "

Glancing back at the tortured alien, Spectre had decided that he had enough of this pointless endeavour. It was nowhere near as fun as he had intended. "Thank you for your cooperation, filth." He primed the weapon and aimed it towards the creature's temple, itching… waiting… wanting to pull the trigger and watch this freak of nature become a lifeless husk. "Any last words?"

The xeno howled in a chocked laughter. " **You… You will never fin-** "

 _ **Crack!**_

Nyx shook his head as a sudden shot departure from Spectre's weapon and silenced the alien prematurely. For a while, he truly thought he knew how to read the Hunter but, with every new action, he just became even more disgusted with the Cult Zealot. Maybe he would never understand him.

"Man, I hate it when they talk to much." Spectre commented as he gave the body a slight poke with his rifle. "They are always so fucking pretentious."

"Well," Ragnar began, "What do we do now?"

Nyx pulled out his rifle and began to stroll away from the group, his optics scanning the local vicinity for any signs of life or movement. "We patrol the area and continue our search." He turned a fierce glare towards Spectre, whom was still examining the Fallen corpse. "Not much else we can do."

Spectre ignored him as he turned his own attention the to the large wasteland ahead of their current position and began to examine the wreckage that had been left bare by Ragnar's rampage. It did not truly concern him, just reminded him to note down Ragnar for observation. He could either be a useful resource or a deadly threat, either which way, Spectre would be the one to deal with it. He turned to the other Hunter and watched him carefully, almost smirking at the stubbornness of the vision-suffering Exo. He was also a target. Resource or threat, he would deal with him, if need be.

Turning his attention upwards, Spectre had noticed something glimmering in the distance. However, unlike the lifeless husk resting at his feet, Spectre knew exactly what it was. The shimmer was indistinguishable as he had made sure that so many Guardian's had also seen it before their own demise at his own hands. The light did not move. It did not flicker. It was no beacon. Nor was it a signal flare.

He smiled slightly, dropping his weapon to the ground and staring directly at the shimmer in the distance. "You sneaky, little fool." He remarked, gaining the confused attention of both Nyx and Ragnar. "You had better hope you shut me down for good, Dael…"

"Spectre?" He asked, noticing his weapon slam against the earth below. "Who are you talking to?

 _ **Crack!**_

Spectre felt his body begin to crumple under its own weight before the impact against his metallic cranium, the pain being almost non-existent as his vision faded from the natural world and the desperate voices of his teammates calling for him also vanished. Maybe this was the end. It could be. He hoped it might be; he at least hoped for a memory _wipe_ …

' _Guess my hunt is postponed for now.'_ the Hunter mused to himself as began to feel his consciousness slither away and he almost felt like smiling, if he could. _'I just hope Dael knows the implications of his actions…'_

For now, Spectre's body had been thrown into a premature shut-down and he knew he would have to get ready soon – as soon as he was connected to his consciousness again, anyway. In the immaterial world, no one waited for you to rest.

Survival was your only option.

Spectre knew this more than anyone. He knew how to win. He knew how to conquer. He knew that the Black Tower waits for no one…

Either way, however, Spectre cared not. His actions were sinful beyond comprehension and he knew he deserved his fate but would accept any eventuality.

Picture the sight of a tarnished land, no colour or texture. Its earth was a solid grey, the visible reality of this world clouded in distorted waves of black and white. There were shimmering shapes glitching and fading occasionally, but always stagnant in their movements and patrols. They never faltered. Knew not of fear. No one, whom had bared witness to them, knew of their origins or species. Shapes were formed and visible, but not comprehensible.

Now, above all of this chaos, picture a large tower silhouetted by the shadows of its own entropy. It stood proud above the lands, shrouding all below it with its incomprehensible reach. It watched all. It could have been considered omnipotent. Godlike in nature.

Spectre-42…

 _No…_

Spectre-43 knew better…

 _ **This was not some God, like many had perceived it to be…**_

 _ **But, even if it was…**_

 _ **No God would be able to stop his wrath…**_


	7. Chapter VII: Finish your chores

**Disclaimer: As you know, I do not own this franchise. I only own some of the OCs and others go to their respective owners.**

 **So, let's get started…**

Chapter VII: Finish Your Chores…

"Well, we're here." Evalyne stated cautiously as she scouted ahead of her temporary Fireteam and sent her Ghost to scan the area before them. "You see anything Lorenzo?"

Her Ghost split from the natural formation of his robotic body and released a surging pulse, scanning the rock formations and surroundings in a four-pulsed sweep. The lands before her lit up and was received back to her HUD in a digitised form. Each grey cliff face, every cracked hillside and all formations of rock were displayed for her to see. With each scan, however, her eyes began to display more of her rising concern.

She beckoned her Ghost back and allowed him back into the palm of her hand. "Lorenzo, please tell me you can see something that I missed."

"I'm afraid not, Eva." His optic declined slightly, the impact of what they had witnessed – or, rather, had not witnessed – striking him with a simulated pang of guilt. "This entire area has been completely cleared of all life signs."

Evalyne glanced away from her Ghost and stared at what remained of the Exile battalion that she and her team were supposed to assist. Banners were strewn across the ground. Robes stripped and torn, only leaving their almost forsaken remnants in the dust. Bodies torn to shreds and laid bare upon the dirt. It was not a sight that was very welcoming to the Warlock; especially knowing what Alexanders reaction would be.

"Alex," she called, pressing a finger to her ear, "I have found the Fallen force and… well, you're gonna' need to see this."

"Understood." He replied, his tone still as stern as she recalled it to be. "Just hold tight, Eva, we will be there soon."

She turned to meet the rest of her Fireteam as their muffled footprints continued to approach her position, steeling herself in preparation for their reactions. Seeing something this disconcerting can easily be taken to heart; weighed upon the minds of those not prepared. She knew Sebastian would most probably take it best. He always was the most collected of the group and had seen things like this many time. Cyrus would be a concern as he would likely take this personally and feel guilty for not being able to assist Gabriel's _"people"_. It was to be expected; seeing how clearly unstable he was. Still, all that aside, she knew that Alex – of the entire group – would take it the hardest. He never was one to accept the concept of failure; for him to see that they had failed to assist these allies… Alex would most definitely take it personally.

The trio – lead by the Titan _Hero_ – crossed the small distance between themselves and Evalyne; their leader stopping before her. He was sure to not progress before speaking to her as he placed a comforting hand upon her shoulder. "Are you alright, Eva?" Her relaxed shoulders seemed to tense as he presented the question. Feeling how tense she had become from his question, Alex gave her shoulder another comforting squeeze. "Evalyne, please, tell me what's wrong? You're not yourself."

Evalyne looked away as she attempted to convey what she had wanted to tell him but, for some reason, she could not seem to form the words necessary. As she looked away from the Titan – words still escaping her – she caught sight of Sebastian. Her friend had clearly walked ahead of them while they were still consumed within their discussion and – by his stance – had witnessed what she had also seen. She was glad that he had at least reacted how she had expected he would but became concerned once again when she noticed that Cyrus was not in sight. He must still be looking over the bodies.

Alex shook her slightly, gaining her attention once again. Her head tilted as she began to speak. "The Exiles were here and appeared to have fought the Hive head on but…"

"But what?" He asked, both of his hands placed upon her shoulders as his way of comforting her. He never was the best at comforting people, always appearing blunt or awkward, but, at least with Evalyne, he knew at least some things that actually worked. "Evalyne, just tell me what happened."

"They're dead, Alex."

His eyes widened slightly, his hands leaving her shoulders as he stepped back in surprise. "What?" He whispered, almost in disbelief. She could tell – even behind the visor – that he was taking it to heart. That was what she was what she had wanted to avoid.

Evalyne looked down, her fists clenching slightly as the image returned to her. "They're dead, Alex." She repeated, "From what Lorenzo has been able to gather, the Exiles were in a skirmish with the opposing Hive forces but also appear to have been overwhelmed." She looked over her shoulder and watched as Sebastian seemed to have stopped before the remnants of an Exile banner. The material of the banner was still and silent, almost a perfect analogy for the many corpses that were strewn across the ground. "They didn't stand a chance…"

The Titan sighed, a hand coming to grip his visor as he shook his head. "Right." He muttered – primarily to himself – as he regained his composure. Raising his weapon into a combat stance, the _Hero_ stalked away from the Warlock and rounded the corner as to see the devastation for himself; and guessing by his reaction, he was not in the least bit impressed. "We need to move on."

"What!?" Cyrus, whom had so far remained silent throughout the entire exchange, finally spoke up – surprise palpable in his voice. Clearly, he did not agree with Alex's sentiment. "B-But we ne-need to-"

Alex's tone became firm, establishing his point to the younger Guardian. "What we _need_ to do is move on." He declared as he moved to continue down the path towards the Hive Temple, Evalyne following close behind. "We can't stand here and start worry about everyone that dies because we weren't here to save them. We're Guardians; we don't _get_ time to mourn. We need to accept it and move on."

The tainted Warlock attempted to rebuttal his commanding officer but stopped himself as he felt his words leave him, unable to come up with a response that seemed viable. He turned as Sebastian came to his side and placed a hand upon his shoulder, calmly urging him forward. Words were not needed to be conveyed between the two and they both knew that they understood what the other was implying and feeling. Sebastian could feel Cyrus' guilt seeping through his form and Cyrus knew that Sebastian just wanted to help. It was simple but, between people as anti-social as them, it meant a lot.

The team moved on towards the entrance of the temple and continued down the beaten path laid before them; careful not to disturb the remains of the dead. They filed through the entrance, Alex taking point as to survey the room before them and possibly take the brunt of any oncoming attacks from any unforeseen foe. He gestured for the team to halt, pointing towards the roaming Wizard lingering on the higher precipice of this forsaken temple. Her position was clearly that of a guard; evident by how she seemed to patrol around the inky-black pool of liquid in the centre. He indicated towards both Sebastian and Cyrus and told them to walk up the staircase – located their right – and take up an ambush position. The two nodded, complying almost instantly as they moved up the stairs towards their assigned target.

As Evalyne moved to follow, Alex halted her advance and indicated towards the descending staircase on the left. The two Guardians stealthily moved behind a nearby rock formation and spotted a small swarm of Thralls as they blissfully feasted upon the remains of some unknown creatures. They were clearly placed there for a purpose; most probably by the Wizard as a front-line defence for the entrance. Alex raised his hand and silently indicated for Evalyne to keep her sights upon the horde, ready to eliminate them at the order. The Titan moved to begin the assault but was halted by his HUD's map and the large red blotch that had stained it. The form seemed unmoving but appeared to obviously be a creature of some impressive stature.

The Titan laid himself across the ground and moved towards the edge; being careful to move incredibly slowly as to not alert the enemy of their position. He reached the edge and leaned over as to see the underneath of their current position. He stared into the almost pitch darkness of small room below their location, just about struggling to make out the shape of a large figure. However, this mere glimpse alone was not enough for the _Hero_. He needed further confirmation.

"Ash," he whispered, smiling as he saw the small white symbol of a _'Ghost'_ appear in the top right corner of his HUD. "illuminate that area with a quick scan so we can see what we are dealing with."

"Alex, you are aware of the risk we are running by scanning this area." The Ghost warned, his tone as stern as his Guardian. He was clearly concerned with Alex's decision. "If I let off even the smallest of pulses, the enemy will detect us and – in response – attack us without hesitation."

The Guardian nodded, accepting the Ghost's rebuttal. "I am aware of this, Ash, but I do appreciate the warning."

He could almost see the Ghost's optic roll. "Just doing my job, Guardian." The Ghost went silent for a moment before continuing, his tone neutral. "Do you still wish to proceed?"

"Do it."

As soon as the command was given the lower fresh hold was illuminated in a short burst of light, revealing the large creature below and clearly angering it as it began to roar in a primal fury. Leaping up from his position, Alex sprang into action and sent the order for the team to engage their respective targets. Roars and screams filled the air as the enemy forces began their attack against the Fireteam with quick succession; the Guardians responding in kind with a ferocious fervour as they cut down anything that crossed their path.

Alexander lead the charge as he leapt down to the lower floor of the chamber and turned the entirety of his firepower onto the large skulking Ogre that residing in the darkness. The creature gave its signature roar as it fired its cranial energy blasts at the Titan and continued to advance forward with a steady but strong pace as to cover more ground. He was pushed back slightly as the blast caught him in the arm – thankful his shield was so durable under such punishment. Alex leapt behind the cover of a nearby barricade and took the short opportunity to reload his trusty Scout Rifle.

He took a quick breath and leaned out of cover to see if the Major-class creature was still pursuing him as its primary target and was greeted by a large set of claws sweeping against the cover and tearing much of it into rubble. The Guardian's frown hardened as he sidestepped another swipe from the enraged creature, wondering if his teammates were in a similar situation. Taking a moment as he backed behind a supporting pillar, Alexander glanced up the set of stairs he had left Evalyne on and found her tearing through the Thrall quite successfully. Sadly, more were coming; and if more _were_ coming, that meant that Cyrus and Sebastian still had not dealt with the Wizard.

With a resounding clang against his own armour, Alex was brought back to reality as the Ogre closed in on him and picked him up in its horrifically large claws. He squirmed and slammed his fists against the beast's arms in an attempt to make it let go but came to no avail. The creature flailed its arm and slammed him into the sturdy column, making him grunt as he felt his left shoulder crack almost immediately on contact. The flails continued multiple times as the creature slammed him from the pillar to the floor and then – finally – discard him into a nearby wall; leaving a trembling mound of armour barely able to lean on a one knee.

Alex looked up – his vision clouded in blood – as the Ogre came ever closer in preparation to finish him off. As it approached him, his frown only remained strong as he pushed himself up into a standing position – holding his shattered shoulder. The creature approached ever closer and the _Hero_ knew he was running out of options. He couldn't use his melee – aptly named _Disintegrate_ by the less formal of his Guardian comrades – as his best arm was shattered and the other was sprained. It was still possible to use it but the efficiency would be near to nothing compared to his normal self. The Ogre stalked closer – forget options, he was running out of time.

" _Weapon: no, I can barely aim like this. Super: Not a chance. I haven't even charged it fully and – even if I had – it wouldn't work as this lug would finish me with a CQC attack and I can't really run with a limp."_ Looking down at his barely visible HUD and could see he had a grenade ready. _"It's worth a shot."_

Looking up again, Alex watched as the Ogre was once again cloaked in a red pulse of energy and began its primal charge towards him. Feeling the grenade amass within his palm, the Guardian limped ahead to meet his foe and waited for it to lower its head close enough for him to take opportunity of it. The creature raised its arms and threw them down towards the ground; its head lowering with its descending trajectory. Raising his arm with a distinctive roar, the Guardian slammed the grenade into the monster's jaw before its fists could connect with the ground. The explosion sent the Guardian flying against the same wall as before – a pathetic heap of searing armour against the ground.

Gazing through a bloodstained visor, Alexander watched the humongous creature dematerialised from the inside – the being of power collapsing to the floor in a convulsing mound of slowly disintegrating into nothingness. He moved his head only slightly – pain searing through his being at the slightest movement – and saw that his mini-map was clear of all hostiles. Closing his eyes, he ignored the desperate screams of his name; he knew he was at least content with how this had transpired. He had got his team through this conflict. He had – hopefully – avenged those poor, lost souls of the Exile house. He was content.

Hopefully, they would let him rest for a bit and keep his peace a moment longer…

– Scene Change –

"Come on, Warden, let me in!" He knocked against the ancient doors once again, the resounding knocks echoing throughout the lands of the Vault. "I know you're in there and I am not leaving until you come out!"

Another voice entered the Guardian's one-sided dialogue: "He isn't listening, Red, and I don't think he wants to listen." She turned to the two standing behind her, "What do you two think?"

The taller of the two grunted, unwilling to comment on the subject and instead opted to gaze out at the patrolling Vex as they stood as guards over the sync-plates that powered the _spire_. It seemed far more interesting compared to answering his fellow Guardian.

They certainly were strange beings – the Vex. A Guardian, such as himself, would not understand such beings as he had no time for such trivial pursuits. He was a simple man. He wanted to kill. To bring vengeance upon them for simply existing. He would not pretend – like Matt or Orion – that he was administering a self-righteous _justice_ upon them. It _was_ vengeance. Cold, calculating and honest. It was what the Vex _deserved_. They were not the Hive but, in all honesty, they didn't need to be. They belonged to the Darkness – a crime that was unforgivable.

Rolling her eyes, the other Fireteams Titan decided to give some input. "I think that Red isn't going to make any progress with his… _unique_ approach." She remarked honestly, shaking her head as Red continued slamming his hand against the door; amounting to the same outcome as before.

"And what makes you say that, Fiona?" Natasha asked, a smirk plastering itself upon her face as they both watched Red continue his one-sided argument. Again, he seemed to be getting nowhere.

"I am warning you, Warden!" He declared with another solid thump against the door, "I am getting very annoyed with your behaviour and will not stand for it any longer. If you want to hide in your damned _Vaults_ then do it at a less inconvenient time!"

"At least he is thinking about the mission."

Fiona sighed. "Wait for it…"

"By that, I mean that you are wasting _my_ precious time!" His optics narrowed and his inner light began to grow in intensity. "On my planet, no less!"

"There you go…" The two turned away from the Hunter and joined Aiden as he continued his watch of the enemy patrols, both of them exhausted with listening to the Exo. "No matter the conversation, it always comes back to narcissism and self-indulgence. Even after sixteen deaths he still doesn't change."

Natasha almost scoffed at the prospect of Red ever changing his attitude. To even imagine Red-16 acting differently from the one they know just wouldn't be right in the slightest – or even remotely logical. The annoying, self-indulgent clown persona seemed to suit him down to the ground. "Some things are hardwired…"

The knocking ceased and the two turned as the Exo joined them, his shoulders slumped and disappointment clear on his visage. He raised an arm to scratch the back of his neck as he spoke; "Whelp, it doesn't look like he is coming out anytime soon." He remarked not taking his eyes off the ancient doors. "This mission isn't going the way I'd like…"

"Yeah, Red, remind me, why the hell are we searching for tall, dark and psycho." Natasha requested. She took note of Red and Fiona exchanging an unidentifiable look as their shoulders tensed, unsure of how to answer her inquiry. She had seen this before when Warden was brought up – among Fireteam Spirit and the other members of the _Tower_. "Well? I'm waiting…"

"Alex came to us with a request from the Vanguard representatives to make contact with Warden and bring him back to the _Tower_ for questioning." Fiona explained, "Their reason for wanting him back is… uh, classified."

Red pushed in, "She means _'mind your own business'._ "

"Fine." Natasha said with a distinct huff, choosing to ignore Red's rude correction of Fiona's statement. "If that's the case, what are going to do if we can't get him to come out?"

Walking past Aiden, Fiona raised her Pulse rifle – gifted to her by the very Guardian they had been so diligently searching for – and used her scope to examine each and every location the enemy seemed to be amassing. Multiple variations of their ground forces patrolled at their leisure – seemingly unaware of the Guardians watching them. Hobgoblin snipers positioned themselves at key vantage points, hesitated, and then marched to another VP. Harpies flew amongst their mechanical comrades – whirring and clanking with every manoeuvre. Lastly, the Minotaurs – Preatorian variant – seemed solely preoccupied with the _sync-plates_ and remaining as vigilant, stalwart sentinels.

Putting all the pieces together in her head, Fiona was sure that she could easily come up with a strategy that would hopefully solve their problems. "We go in and drag him out."

Red smirked at the boldness of her statement, his optics filled with pride. "Alright, lil' sis, what have you got in mind?" His smirk widened at her exasperated sigh.

Her eyes narrowed, "Red, I told you _not_ to call me _that_!" She snapped. Turning away from the group, the _Scholar_ knelt down and asked for Red to pass his trusty knife. With hesitance, he handed over the knife – admonishing her to not _'cut herself'_ – and allowed her to begin her strategy. "I believe that, if we follow my plan to the letter, we should be able to open these doors and reach Warden."

"Alright, Brainiac, tell us."

"From studying some ancient recordings granted to me by Vanguard Ikora and examining their patrol routes, I have concluded that the key to opening this _Vault_ is the three _sync-plates_ that are under the Vex's protection." The Titan carved a multitude of symbols to represents the multiple points into the soft soil; each one assisting her explanation of her strategic plan. "First," she pointed towards the _'R'_ carved into the soil, "I want Red to go to the left plate and hold the enemy off as best you can. Be sure to watch if any attack you from behind but – from what I have seen – they are more likely to keep their attack to the front."

Red gave a two-fingered salute and strolled towards his assigned point with a confident smirk plastered on his metallic jaw. "Gotcha'," he declared, "I got it covered."

"Don't forget your knife…" She called as she threw the weapon towards its owner; whom caught it effortlessly.

Returning to her strategic meeting, Fiona next pointed towards the _'A'_ engraved in the dirt. "Next, I want Aiden positioned in the centre plate. Since you are the most capable and experienced of the Titans in our group, you will be used to take on the most difficult point of the three." The Titan nodded and silently proceeded towards his point without an ounce of hesitance. "Aiden, I'm not finished with my expl-"

He paused momentarily and gazed over his shoulder at the two, his hands occupied with reloading his _Chaperone_ shotgun. "I can manage…" His mumbled declaration came with a distinct underlying tone of frustration, as if they were making a comment on his ability as Guardian.

"Right. Yes, of course, you can." She stuttered with a glance to the side and flush powdering her cheeks; embarrassed at her mistake. With a quick uncomfortable cough, she turned back to her map and pointed towards the carved _'F'_ in the soil. "Finally, I will take point at the right _sync-plate_ and hold off any enemies that come my way. If we all play our roles efficiently enough, we should get the door open."

"Oh, great, Fiona. A great plan. No faults at all." Fiona raised her brow at the sarcastic commentary, "But where do I come in? I'm not sitting out all of the action."

Fiona sighed at her impatience, "Do not worry, Nat, I have taken your thirst for blood into account and have positioned you in a perfect position." She indicated towards the circled _'N'_ in the centre of the diagram. "You will be jumping between each plate and stagnating the enemies advance with your _Nightstalker_ arrows; remember to keep yourself circulating between each of our positions as to make sure that none of us are about to be over-" Her brow raised once again as she looked to her side and noticed that Natasha was no longer listening to her explanation. "-whelmed… I guess… I'll just head to my position, then…"

As she stalked towards her _sync-plate_ , she sighed disappointedly. "No one ever listens to me…"

– Scene Change –

"Sir, you have a report from Guardian Ragnar."

Felix turned to meet the civilian with a tired expression, his hidden eyes lazily meeting the man robed in the garments of a Cult supporter. It was not one of the most opportune moments to receive any messages as Felix was still working on the 'mess' left behind by one of Dakota's recent endeavours. However, as a representative of the Cult and the _Towers_ council, he had responsibilities to know what his fellow members had been doing while out in that big, old universe.

The Hunter sighed, holding out a hand and taking the data-pad from the normal standing before him. "Thank you." He mumbled, "You are dismissed." The man left him to examine the pad at his leisure, going to join his fellow members in their animated discussion of politics. He flicked his finger against the pads screen and surveyed the information upon it with a distinct lack of interest. He skimmed the report, noting only a few words: _Fallen. Snipers. Rogues. Leads. Injuries. Death…_

His eyes widened slightly at that last word: _Death._ Felix examined the text once again, reading the file once more and following the report with the same focus he would give to any reports involving his Fireteam or Warden-217. He went over the facts once more and was not happy with what he could see.

He ran a hand over his visor, his eyes narrowing in frustration as he closed the file. "Fuck…" He muttered as he stood from his seat and gazed out through the large observation glass of the War-cult's apartments. He hated to hear when Guardians had become victims to incidents that lead to death. Especially someone who was part of his community. Still, the death of this individual was not what bothered him – he was more concerned about _when_ they would awaken.

He turned to Lakshmi-2 as she finished her interaction with a Guardian wishing to procure some requisitions and informed her of the situation. Her frown hardened at the news, her hand coming to her metallic chin as she thought to how to deal with the situation at hand. "What do you think we should do, Felix?"

He seemed almost stunned by her question, shock evident as he responded. "What do I think?" He reiterated, "If I knew what the best course of action was then I would have taken it already. That is why I asked _you_ of all people to decide what must be done."

She paused for a moment, allowing the low hum of her internal motors to fill the silence. She was clearly deep in her own internal thoughts – not entirely surprising considering whom she was thinking about. She always did like to play favourites with Spectre. "Well, considering that this situation is a complete variable, how do you think we should approach it?" She asked, her optics only barley leaving her data-pad.

The Hunter let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand over his visor once again. "I… I don't know." He said, feeling slightly defeated. He looked to her, "Enough asking questions, Lakshmi. I want your opinion on the situation."

"I think we should wake him up."

Felix scoffed, "You tell _him_ that. You – especially you – know how long it can take for an Exo to return from the dead." He explained as he became more frustrated with the dilemma placed before them. He hated unresolved dilemmas. "You can revive the body as many times as you please but – if the mind has not returned from… whatever it is you guys experience, you will just be bringing back an empty shell. This process could take weeks. Months. Maybe even years!"

"Calm yourself," she warned, "this is very out of character for you and you need to keep it together."

He raised a brow at her warning, unused to this level of concern from the machine. "Since when did you start caring about my emotional wellbeing?"

She suddenly released a hearty chuckle but he was sure that he could hear the patronising tone lacing it. "I don't." She stated flatly, recovering from her moment of amusement. "I just can't have one of my top representatives looking like an overemotional teenager." She had said the words in that same tactless and cold manner as before but seemed to not fully put any vindictiveness in them in a way of giving them substance. She was clearly troubled – even if she refused to show it. "I wish to know if the decision to put Guardian Kitori as Locker's observer is still in effect?"

"You know the answer already, Lakshmi." He told her, a sense of curiosity in his tone. "I would like to know how that is relevant."

"I want to hear the brief from _you_."

"As of yesterday, Guardian Kitori was assigned to be the current observer of this new Guardian Locker." He explained, "While at the meeting, I was sure to make implications or statements that would lead them to a similar conclusion – one that would benefit the Cult – whether they knew it or not." A faint smirk played on his lips as he thought over the events of the meeting, hiding the faint chuckle that threatened to break through at the memory of Cayde's emotional disposition and rage-fuelled declarations. "I had recommended Spectre for the position and they instantly refused – as we had expected. Thankfully, the rumours amongst the other members of the council were also true: Kitori was the leading candidate to replace Rylin."

Lakshmi smirked, "Clearly, you haven't lost your touch. Manipulation is still one of your most efficient assets."

"I cannot take all of the credit," he conceded, "as the Elder seemed to help them come to this conclusion."

"Why?"

"How could I answer that?" Felix replied, "I'm sure even the Speaker knows not what goes on in that mind of hers." As amusing as this dialogue exchange seemed to be, he was still unsure as to why this line of discussion had been taken. "But, back to my original question, how does this relate to Spectre?"

"Spectre is one of our most efficient… _agents_." She stated flatly.

"And?"

She continued, "Kitori is one of our most loyal members; though unstable and prone to developing dependant emotional attachments, he is one whom owes us."

Felix frowned. "What are you getting at, Lakshmi?"

"If our efforts to get Guardian Kitori as the observer of Locker are not to be in vain, we must have Spectre back online before their next deployment." She explained. Felix nodded, understanding her intentions. "He must be sure to keep him in line – keep him from making any mistakes; along with making sure no one finds out that Kitori is spying on his own – how did he say… ah, yes – friend."

Felix hesitated, his view of Amanda's shipyard serving as a fleeting distraction. "I hope you know what we have gotten ourselves into, Lakshmi." He warned, "If we are found out, it may be hard to face the consequences."

"Oh, Felix, please," She began with that same patronising chuckle, "give me some credit. I know just how to get around these people." She took a seat upon one of the observation lounges many couches, the fiendish flicker never leaving her optics. "If they could not catch me before, they will have no hope of catching us now."

– Scene Change –

"So, what 'appened to 'im, Mile?" Amanda Holiday asked as she was brought through the doors of the medical facility, her oil-coated lips keeping up her signature grin. Even under the circumstances, she had a reputation to keep up.

The Exo at her side was not as optimistic and was not approving of her signature smirk. The mechanical brow of his orange chassis declined. " _ **Bile.**_ It's Bile. As in _bitterness_!" He snapped, "In any case, he was brought back to us a few hours ago by one of his teammates."

The shipwright raised a single brow, curiously. "What do ya mean by _'one'_ of his teammates?" She asked, "Where was the rest of 'em?"

His large blue optics gave her an awkward glance, the mechanical brows moving once again. "He was… preoccupied." He answered, giving her a feeble look of finality. He clearly did not want to discuss the matter further. "In all honesty, I am just happy _someone_ decided to return him." He lead her over to a nearby table – where the body of the fallen Exo lay – and proceeded to check the life-support.

"Are all of these machines necessary?" She asked, leaning over and giving them a once over with a scrutinising glare. Her hesitance towards the necessity of the equipment evident. "He _is_ a Guardian, after all." Bile looked away from the machine and proceeded to indicate towards the small inanimate object nestled beside the Guardian. Amanda seemed shocked at the sight of it. "Is that his – is that Typhon?"

Bile nodded solemnly, "You are correct, Amanda. That assuredly _is_ Typhon." Bile reached over to the body and removed the small device held over the large, gaping wound he had sustained to his head; his own repulsion shown by his evident flinch. "I really don't like seeing him like this…"

Amanda's eyes doubled in size as she was granted the ability to bear witness to the wound; she almost understood why Bile had reacted the way he did. The wound was not a pretty sight. The impact was clearly very deep, almost halfway through the central processor – more simplified, the brain; in some way, it looked like a large blossoming flower – as sick as it sounded. Worse, it was obvious that the shot had not been for efficiency but instead to cause maximum irreparable damage. Whoever did this – _Traveller_ help them – must have a personal reason for such an attack; a vendetta.

"Wait, why the hell hasn't Typhon woke 'im up, yet?" Picked up the small Ghost, shocked to see him so unresponsive and inanimate. He was normally so… Actually, now she thought about it, this _was_ how he acted. "Isn't that his job?"

"So far, his Ghost has refused to cooperate and has remained unresponsive to any and all stimuli – apparently on orders from Spectre himself." He sighed, taking the Ghost from her hand and placing him carefully back on the table. He always had been the more delicate of the medical staff. "Orders that were given decades ago."

Amanda traced a hand over the wound, examining it further and making a mental note of how much equipment she would need to repair him. "You didn't answer me, Doc."

"He did revive him. His systems are – for the most part – operational." He raised a small data-pad and began listing the many malfunctions and anomalies found within the _corpse_. A majority of the list referred to neural damage and some physical damage. "However, following some type of endurance technique he follows – Spectre has made sure that, whenever he is injured in battle and needs a revive, he never repairs the external damage."

"Yeah, 'cause you guys are coated in that _mesh_ of yours it makes the returning armour way more durable." She explained airily, seeming as if she was reading the information to someone whom was far more ignorant than Bile – much to his chagrin. "Clever but really risky."

"It's not clever, Holiday." He snapped, vindictiveness in his tone as he glared down at the unmoving body. Though filled with rage, there was an underlying tone of familiarity. It almost seemed as if he were fond of the social pariah. "Things like this may work for a while but will only get you killed in the end. I have told him this before but he still wouldn't listen." His large optics fell, leaving his expression downtrodden – almost regretful – as he attempted to reach for Spectre's unmoving hand but resisted the urge. "He never used to be like this…"

"You knew him?"

His metal lips raised into a faint smile; a caring one. Virtually heartfelt in its nature. "Many years ago, when he was first revived, I _was_ once his doctor – engineer… whichever you prefer." He whispered, "He was a different person, then."

"You two were… close?" She asked. Her eyes were still wide, awestruck at the strangely tender moment she was now privy to. She had heard of Spectre's reputation and was unlucky enough to experience it first-hand. In short, he was a tactless, cold and merciless brute whom cared only for his duty. He despised all others – especially those whom had differing opinions and views. It was impossible to fathom that he was once a different person. Someone whom may have known what it meant to be human. "What happened between you two?"

Bile's small smile fell once again as he spoke, his tone filled with despair and regret as he moved away from the Exo and moved towards the life-support equipment. She had never seen the orange Exo so filled with hopelessness. "He forgot…"

Processing the gravity of his words, Amanda forced back the churning feeling in her gut and proceeded to focus on the task at hand. She raised her goggles as an assistant mech brought her tools to a nearby table and laid them out as they would with the doctor's medical tools. Giving a short nod of appreciation, the woman began her work. Using a small pair of tweezers, she began shuffling through the small tangle of wires linking to the central processor that was Spectre's brain. She slowly shuffled through the wires, finally noticing the glinting object nestled within. Sighing in relief, she carefully ruffled through the wires until she got a grip of the object and pulled it out. Smirking, she lifted it before her goggled eyes and gave it a light flick – satisfied with the light _'ting!'_ the bullet gave off.

"I always knew I was _that_ good." She said cockily, placing the bullet in a small medical tray.

Bile shook his head disapprovingly and said: "Careful, Holiday, don't sprain an arm patting yourself on the back." He raised a small device and scanned Spectre's head, checking for any other anomalies with his neural pathways. Patiently, the Exo watched the device process the information and nodded when it finally resounded with a high-pitched _'ping!'_ that indicated its job had been completed.

"What's the verdict, Vile?" She asked, twirling her wrench in her hands as she impatiently waited for the Exo to finish his scan.

"It's Bile!" He snapped, sick of having to repeat their earlier dialogue. "But, if you really must know, the readings are completely positive. The bullet has been removed and his neural-pathways seem to be linking quite seamlessly." She gave him a cocky smirk; he rolled his optics. "Your pride is still intact."

"Now we just need to wake him up."

He nodded, "Of course." He muttered as he leaned over Spectre's body, examining his systems with the beeping device once more. "But that is usually easier said than-"

With a sudden cry of fury, Spectre reached up and latched his hand around Bile's neck. Bile struggled against him, his voice chip gargling in an attempt to speak. "It's me – Bile!" He croaked, "Your – _**ack**_ – doctor!" Spectre remained still, his jaw fixed in place.

"Put 'im down, Spectre." Amanda threatened with a raised wrench; prepared to pummel the Hunter at a moments notice. "If you hurt 'im, Felix an' Al will be furious with ya!"

Seconds passed as the two waited for Spectre to react. He seemed frozen – as if his joints had seized and locked him in place. He was unmoving and unfaltering; not paying Amanda any mind. The trio turned as Spectre's Ghost rose from his placement and hovered by his side. In that moment, Spectre let go of Bile and stood from the table. Grabbing his cloak and helmet, he began stalking out of the door but was halted by Bile's call: "Spectre, you're not fit enough to leave and you need to-"

He paused as Spectre gazed over his shoulder; his lack of optics disturbing the two specialists. "Don't talk to me, Bile." He growled, " _You_ pester and _you_ worry and _you_ talk – Asimov knows _you_ talk – and _I_ don't care." He turned towards the door and proceeded to walk out. "You're pathetic and I don't want to know why you seem to care about me and I don't care. Go rot somewhere and leave me alone."

Watching him leave, Amanda released a heavy sigh of relief and was sincerely thankful to the _Traveller_ that the situation had not escalated any further. That could have quickly become a problem and the last thing she wanted was to be on the other end of an angry Guardian. She heard a small whimper and was drawn towards the hunched form of Bile as he set himself upon the table with his head held within his hands.

She reached forwards and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Ya okay, Bile?" She asked cautiously, unsure of how to comfort the emotional Exo. "That was some pretty 'eavy stuff there…"

"H-He… H-He… I…"

"What? What are ya saying, Doc?"

He sighed, looking up at her with the most downtrodden look she had seen in her life – a look she would not soon forget. "I… I wi-wish he knew how much I – how much I miss him."

– Scene Change –

In a blast of blinding light, Alex's body rematerialized and he lurched up with a desperate gasp for the air his helmet so generously supplied. "Ugh…" He wheezed, "I really hate dying."

"Alex, get up!"

He groaned, not willing to wake up just yet. "Well, duty calls." He complained, pushing himself up from the ground with a distinct groan. He was thankful when he felt a pair of arms helping him up. He turned to see that it was Evalyne whom had helped.

"You really are an idiot, Alex." She mocked, her compassionate tone evident, as she helped him stand and kept him steady. He almost smiled at the fondness in her tone. "Don't ever do something that stupid ever again."

"Oh, so, you _were_ worried?"

She moved away and gave him a weak smack on his chest-plate, her tone switching to a mix of mischief and flirtation. "Heh, only because you could never survive without me." She turned away and called for Cyrus and Sebastian to join them; Sebastian seemed to be the only one whom had heard the order. She turned back to Alex. "We recovered the Ghost and it has been transferred to your ship – I thought you'd like that – and Seb and Cyrus have just finished clearing the area of all Hive. I'm assuming Cyrus is just being – well, you know – thorough."

Nodding in acceptance of her explanation, he raised his head at the sudden beeping coming from his helmet. Alex raised his arm and summoned his trusty companion. "Nice to see you again, Ash." He greeted, "What is the notification for?"

"You're getting calls from Vanguard Zavala and Arach Jalaal." The Ghost explained, his optic glowing as dimly as his flat tone of voice. "Both are insisting that we hurry back and be briefed upon a new assignment; information involving said assignment that cannot be disclosed with anyone else."

Alex sighed, already tired of hearing about his new assignment "I really need to make a date with the bar soon…"

"Send me an invite when you do," Evalyne commented, "and we can make it a double date. You come with the glasses and I'll come with the booze – I'm sure we can easily bring them together."

Alex rolled his eyes and turned back to his Ghost. "Anything else, Ash?" He asked, his mood brightened much more significantly than when they had entered. Ash assumed it was because of his interaction with Evalyne.

"Yes, I also received a message from Amanda Holiday on behalf of Dr Bile: Spectre was injured critically in combat and had to be repaired. However, after he was repaired, he discharged himself and has not been seen since."

"Oh, great…"

"What?"

"We need to get moving." He stated, moving past her and towards the stairs. Evalyne and Sebastian followed. "Spectre's been causing problems once again." He glanced up to the higher level and called for their final member. "Cyrus, get down here! We are leaving!" An unexpected clutter of falling objects and a sudden gasp was released from what Alex assumed was his teammate. Peeking over the edge of the upper-floors edge, Cyrus nervously gave his leader a weak nod of confirmation and quickly returned to whatever he had been doing.

"Come on, Cyrus! We need to go now!" Evalyne called irritably, a foot tapping against the ground impatiently.

At the height of the complex, Cyrus released a sigh of relief as he returned to his previous task and thanked whatever deity there was that none of his Fireteam had come to investigate. However, his Ghost had decided to remind him of his predicament. "We need to get moving, Cyrus." Sera warned as she followed him and watched as he began to gather the items he had recently dropped after being startled. "Felix has sent me a private message that insists that we meet him upon our return to the- " She paused, feeling her concern heighten at the items and the properties they held. "Ar-are you really sure that you – that _we_ should be collecting more of these… these… remains?"

The Guardian ignored her as he moved across the higher level of the ruins with a strangely intense vigour that she had not seen in him for many years. With a few clutters and clangs, he gathered all of the pieces into a pile. "Sera," he began, an eerily familiar tone to his voice. "transport it all to my ship… I want to go through it before we deliver it to my room."

"But... But, Cyrus, this feels wrong." His Ghost commented as she hovered before his visor, not willing to look upon the objects that he had amassed. She couldn't look at them. It felt… wrong. Just being near them felt wrong. This couldn't have been healthy for Cyrus – but this did explain why he refused to see his psychiatrists anymore. "You can't keep collecting these… these… _remains_!"

"Sera," he begged, "please just – just do this…"

She hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to proceed. She knew – deep down in her core – that this was _wrong_ – oh, so very _wrong_. She couldn't enable him with this type of behaviour. She was his Ghost – his companion, his friend. Through his toughest times, she had been there to guide him home. She had been there – during his sleepless nights – and listened to the way he spoke to that gun of his. The things he would say – those horrible, horrible things; she wouldn't forget them. Deep down, she hoped that it wasn't really him saying those things. She needed to believe that – to believe that her hope would come through.

On the other hand, he needed her to be on his side at all times. She knew that she was a constant in his life and she was his primary anchor. Having her at his side was a desperate need of his – her support was what got him to make so many difficult decisions in his life: joining the Cult, befriending Gabriel and Renton and meeting Fiona – it was all down to her.

Maybe, just this once, she could support this questionable decision and keep his mind afloat a little while longer… She had to hold onto that hope.

She sighed. "Of course, Cyrus." She whispered, projecting a scanning light over the pile of remains and dematerialising them – sending them to the ship. "Transmat successful. They… They will be waiting for you when we return to our ship…"

"Thank you, Sera…" He acknowledged with a sincere smile through his visor, his tone showing the level of affection he had for her.

"Can you – will you please tell me something, Cyrus?"

He widened his eyes slightly, surprised at his Ghost's sudden request. "Well – uh – sure." He hesitantly replied, "What is it?"

"Can you just… can you tell me; do you mean the things you say in your sleep?"

"…"

"Cyrus," She begged, "please, tell me…"

"…"

"Please…"

"We need to go, Sera…"

"But-"

"Now _."_

 _ **She had to hope she was still right.**_


End file.
